PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


BS  1545  .G87  1870 

Guthrie,  Thomas,  1803-1873. 

The  gospel  in  Ezekiel 


Shelf.... 


THE 


GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL 


ILLUSTRATED   IN 


A  SERIES  OF  DISCOURSES. 


REV.  THOMAS    GUTHRIE,  D.D., 


K  D 1  N  B  U  R  O II . 


author  of  "the  inheritance  of  the  saints,     ''wat  to  life, 
"speaking  to  the  heart,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT    CARTER    &    BROTHERS, 

No.    530    Broadway. 

1870. 


ro  THE 

REV.  WILLIAM  HANNA,  LL.  D. 

To  you,  my  dear  Sir,  I  dedicate  these  Discourses, 
the  substance  of  which  was  preached  to  our  Congre- 
gation, not  so  much  as  an  expression  of  my  high 
admiration  of  the  genius  and  talents  which  you  have 
consecrated  to  the  cause  of  our  common  liord,  as  a 
mark  of  the  warm  affection  which  I  cherish  for  you, 
and  of  the  kind,  cordial,  and  most  happy  intercourse 
which  we  have  enjoyed  since  our  union  as  colleaguoa 
and  pastors  of  the  same  flock. 

THOMAS  GUTHRIE. 


\  -» 
I"* 

I  • 


CONTENTS. 


PA  91 

L  Thk  Msssengeb 1 

IL  The  Defileb 21 

III.  Man  Sinning 89 

IV.  Man  Suffering 56 

V.  God's  Punitive  Justice 73 

VI.  God's  Motive  in  Salvation 91 

VII.  Man  an  Object  of  Divine  Mercy lOT 

VIII.  God  Glorified  in  Redemption 127 

IX.  Toe  Wisdom  and  Holiness  of  God  Illustrated  in  Sal- 
vation    139 

X.  The  Mercy  of  God  Illustrated  in  Salvation 154 

XI.  The  Benefits  Flowing  from  Reeemption 171 

XII.  Man  Justified 189 

XIII.  Man  Justified  through  the   Righteousness   of  Jesus 

Christ 207 

XIV.  Man  Converted 228 

XV   The  Heart  of  Stone 247 


Vl  CONTENTS. 

PlOB 

XVI.  The  ITew  Heart 264 

XVII.  Thb  Renovator 2S8 

XVIII.  The  New  Life 303 

XIX.  The  New  Life — continued 320 

XX.  The  Nature,  Nucessity,  and  Power  of  Prayer 340 

XXI.  The  Blessedness  of  the  Saints 362 

XXIL  The  Sscubity  of  the  Bxlieyeb 877 


THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL 


Clje  UlcssfiiQer, 

Moreover,  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  unto  me,  saying.  Son  of  man.— 
EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  16,  17. 

Having  scattered  over  an  open  field  tlie  bones  of 
the  human  body,  bring  an  anatomist  to  the  scene. 
Conduct  him  to  the  valley  where  Ezekiel  stood,  with 
his  eye  on  the  skulls  and  dismembered  skeletons  of  an 
unburied  host.  Observe  the  man  of  science  how  he 
fits  bone  to  bone  and  part  to  part,  till  from  those  scat- 
tered members  he  constructs  a  framework,  which, 
apart  from  our  horror  at  the  eyeless  sockets  and  flesh 
less  form,  appears  perfectly,  divinely  beautiful.  In 
hands  which  have  the  patience  to  collect,  and  the  skill 
to  arrange  these  materials,  how  perfectly  they  fit  I 
bone  to  bone,  and  joint  to  joint,  till  the  whole  figure 
rises  to  the  polished  dome,  a'nd  the  dumb  skeleton 
seems  to  say,  "I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.'' 
l^ow  as  with  these  parts  of  the  human  frame,  so  is  it 
with  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  in  so  far  as  they  are 
intelligible  to  our  understandings.  Scattered  over  the 
pages  of  sacred  Scriptuie,  let  them  also  be  collected 
and  arranged  in  sj^stematic  order,  and  how  beautifidly 
they  fit  I  doctrine  to  doctrine,  duty  to  duty ;  till,  all 
connected  with  each  other,  all  "members  one  of  an- 


2  THE   GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

Other  "  tliey  rise  up  into  a  form  of  perfect  symmetry, 
and  present  that  very  system  Avhich,  with  minor  dif- 
ferences but  substantial  unity,  is  embodied  in  tlie  con- 
fessions, creeds,  and  catechisms  of  Evangelical  Christ- 
endom. I  have  said,  so  far  as  they  are  intelligible  to 
us;  for  it  is  ever  to  bo  borne  in  mind,  that  while  the 
Gospel  has  shallows  through  which  a  child  may  wado 
and  walk  on  his  way  to  heaven,  it  has  deep,  dark,  un- 
fathomed  pools,  which  no  eye  can  penetrate,  and  where 
the  first  step  takes  a  giant  beyond  his  depth. 

There  is  a  difference,  which  even  childhood  may 
discern,  between  the  manner  in  which  the  doctrines 
and  duties  of  the  Gospel  are  set  forth  in  the  Word  of 
God,  and  their  more  formal  arrangement  in  our  cate- 
chisms and  confessions.  They  are  scattered  here  and 
there  over  the  face  of  Scripture,  much  as  the  plant? 
of  nature  are  upon  the  surflice  of  the  globe.  There, 
for  example,  we  meet  with  nothing  corresponding  to 
the  formal  order,  systematic  classification,  and  rectan- 
gular beds  of  a  botanical  garden  ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
creations  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  lie  mingled  in 
what,  although  beautiful,  seems  to  be  wild  confusion. 
Within  the  limits  of  the  same  moor  or  meadow  the 
naturalist  gathers  grasses  of  many  forms,  he  finds  it 
enamelled  with  flowers  of  every  hue ;  and  in  those 
forests  which  have  been  planted  by  the  hand  of  God, 
and  beneath  whose  deep  shades  man  still  walks  in 
rude  and  savage  freedom,  trees  of  every  form  and  fo- 
liage stand  side  by  side  like  brothers.  With  the  Sab- 
bath hills  around  us,  far  from  the  dust  and  din,  the 
splendor  and  squalor  of  the  city,  we  have  sat  on  a 
rocky  bank,  to  wonder  at  the  varied  and  rich  profu- 
sion with  which  God  had  clothed  the  scene.  Nature, 
like  Joseph,  was  dressed  in  a  coat  of  many  colors— 


THE   MESSENGER.  3 

licliens,  gray,  black  and  j^ellow,  clad  the  rock;  the 
glossy  ivj,  like  a  child  of  ambition,  had  planted  its 
foot  on  the  crag,  and,  hanging  on  by  a  hundred  arms, 
had  climbed  to  its  stormy  summit ;  mosses,  of  hues 
surpassing  all  the  colors  of  the  loom,  spread  an  elastic 
carpet  round  the  gushing  fountain ;  the  wild  thyme 
lent  a  bed  to  the  weary,  and  its  perfume  to  the  air ; 
heaths  opened  their  blushing  bosoms  to  the  bee ;  th(? 
primrose,  like  modesty  shrinking  from  observation, 
looked  out  from  its  leafy  shade ;  at  the  foot  of  the 
weathered  stone  the  fern  raised  its  plumes,  and  on  its 
summit  the  foxglove  rang  his  beautiful  bells ;  while 
the  birch  bent  to  kiss  the  stream,  as  it  ran  away  laugh- 
ing to  hide  itself  in  the  lake  below,  or  stretched  out 
her  arms  to  embrace  the  mountain  ash  and  evergreen 
pine.  By  a  very  slight  exercise  of  fancy,  in  such  a 
scene  one  could  see  Nature  engaged  in  her  adorations, 
and  hear  her  singing,  "  The  earth  is  full  of  the  glory 
of  God."  "  How  manifold  are  thy  works.  Lord  God 
Almighty !  in  wisdom  thou  hast  made  them  all." 

ISTow,  although  over  the  whole  surface  of  our  globe, 
as  in  that  spot,  plants  of  all  forms  and  families  seem 
confusedly  scattered,  amid  this  apparent  disorder  the 
eye  of  science  discovers  a  perfect  system  in  the  floral 
kingdom;  and  just  as — although  God  has  certainly 
scattered  these  forms  over  the  face  of  nature  without 
apparent  arrangement — there  is  a  botanical  system,  so 
there  is  as  certainly  a  theological  system,  although  its 
doctrines  and  duties  are  not  classified  in  the  Bible  ac- 
cording to  dogmatic  rules.  Does  it  not  appear  from 
this  circumstance,  that  God  intended  his  Word  to  be 
a  subject  of  study  as  well  as  f:Uth,  and  that  man  should 
find  in  its  saving  pages  a  field  for  the  exercise  of  his 
highest  faculties?  .  ^e  are  commanded  to   comparo 


4  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

"spiritual  things  with  spiritual;"  we  are  to  "search 
the  Scriptures,"  to  dig  for  their  treasures,  to  dive  for 
the  pearls.  Hence  the  prayer  of  David,  "Give  me 
understanding,  that  I  may  learn  thy  commandments." 

While  the  trees  and  flowers  that  clothe  the  fields 
of  nature  are  scattered  without  much  apparent  order 
over  the  wide  surface  of  the  earth,  still  there  are  moun- 
tain regions  lying  within  the  tropics,  where,  in  the 
course  of  a  single  day,  the  traveler  may  find  laid  out 
in  regular  arrangement,  every  vegetable  form  peculiar 
to  every  line  of  latitude  between  the  equator  and  the 
poles.  Leaving  the  palms  which  cover  the  moun- 
tain's feet,  he  ascends  into  the  regions  of  the  olive ; 
from  these,  to  a  more  temperate  climate,  where  the 
vine  festoons  the  trees,  or  trails  its  limbs  along  the 
naked  rock ;  still  ascending,  he  next  reaches  a  belt  of 
oaks  and  chestnuts;  from  that  he  passes  to  heights 
shaggy  with  the  hardy  pine ;  by  and  by,  he  enters  a 
region  where  trees  are  dwarfed  into  bushes ;  rising 
above  that,  his  foot  presses  a  carpet  of  lowly  mosses ; 
till,  climbing  tlie  rouKs  where  only  the  lichen  lives, 
he  leaves  all  life  beneath  him ;  and  now,  shivering  in 
the  cold,  panting  in  the  thin  air  for  breath,  he  stands 
on  those  dreary  elevations,  where  eternal  winter  sits 
on  a  throne  of  snow,  and,  waving  her  icy  scepter,  sr'.ys 
to  vegetation,  "Hither  shalt  thou  come,  and  no  fii- 
ther."  Like  some  such  lofty  mountain  of  the  tropics, 
there  are  portions  of  the  Divine  Word,  where,  in  a 
space  also  of  limited  extent — within  the  short  compass 
of  a  chapter,  or  even  part  of  it — the  more  prominent 
doctrines  of  Salvation  are  brought  into  juxtaposition, 
and  set  side  by  side,  almost  in  systematic  order. 

This  chapter  offers  to  our  attention  c\<^  '^f  the  e   )st 


THE   MESSENGER.  5 

remarkable  of  these ;  and  in  illustration  of  that,  I  re- 
mark— 

I.  That  this  portion  of  Scripture,  extending  onwards 
from  the  16th  verse,  presents  an  epitome  or  outline  of 
the  Gospel. 

Its  details,  with  their  varied  beauties,  are  here,  so 
to  speak,  in  shade ;  but  the  grand  truths  of  redemp- 
tion stand  boldly  up,  much  as  we  have  seen  from  sea 
the  lofty  headlands  of  a  dim  and  distant  coast.  We 
are  aware  that  the  Mosaic  economy,  and  many  of 
God's  dealings  with  his  ancient  people,  were  but  the 
shadows  of  good  things  to  come ;  and  that,  when  the 
things  are  come,  as  come  they  certainly  are,  you  may 
meet  us  on  the  very  threshold  with  this  question. 
Why  look  at  the  shadow  when  you  possess  the  sub- 
stance ?  However  valued  in  his  absence  the  portrait 
of  a  son  may  be,  what  mother,  when  he  is  folded  in 
her  arms,  and  she  has  his  living  face  to  look  on,  turns 
to  the  picture  ?  What  artist  studies  a  subject  in  twi- 
light, when  he  may  see  it  in  the  blaze  of  day  ?  True 
— true  at  least  in  general.  Yet  such  study  has  its 
advantages.  It  not  seldom  happens  that  a  portrait 
brings  to  view  some  shade  of  expression  which  we 
had  not  previously  observed  in  the  face  of  the  veri- 
table man ;  and  when  some  magnificent  form  of  archi- 
tecture, or  the  serried  ridges  and  rocky  needles  of  a 
mountain,  have  stood  up  between  us  and  the  last  lights 
of  day,  we  have  found,  that  although  the  details,  the 
minor  beauties,  of  fluted  columns  or  frowning  crags 
were  lost  in  the  shades  of  evening,  yet,  drawn  in  sharp 
and  simple  outline  against  a  twilight  sky,  the  effect  of 
the  whole  was  more  impressive  then  when  ej^ed  in  the 
glare  of  day. 


6'  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Thus  it  may  be  well,  occasionally  at  least,  to  exam- 
ine  the  Gospel  in  the  broad  shadows  and  strongly 
defined  outlines  of  an  old  economy ;  and  through  God's 
government  of  his  ancient  people,  to  study  the  mo- 
tives, the  nature,  and  the  ends  of  his  dealings  with 
ourselves.  In  this  way  the  passage  before  us  has  pe 
culiar  claims  upon  our  attention.  Applicable,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  the  condition  of  the  Jews,  it  presents 
a  remarkable  summary  of  Gospel  doctrines,  and  that 
in  a  form  approaching  at  least  to  systematic  order. 

In  the  17th  verse,  we  have  man  sinning — "  Son  of 
man,  when  the  house  of  Israel  dwelt  in  their  own 
land,  they  defiled  it  by  their  own  way,  and  by  their 
doings." 

In  the  18th  verse,  we  have  man  suffering — "Where- 
fore I  poured  my  fury  upon  them." 

In  the  21st  verse,  man  appears  an  object  of  mercy^ 
''but  I  had  pity." 

In  the  22d  verse,  man  is  an  object  of  free  mercy — 
mercy  without  merit — "  I  do  not  this  for  your  sakes, 
0,  house  of  Israel." 

In  the  24th  verse,  man's  salvation  is  resolved  on— 
"I  will  bring  you  into  your  own  land." 

In  the  25th  verse,  man  is  justified — "Then  will  I 
sprinkle  clean  water  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  be  dean." 

In  the  26th  and  27th  verses,  man  is  renewed  and 
sanctified — "A  new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a 
new  spirit  will  I  put  within  you ;  and  I  will  take 
away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give 
you  an  heart  of  flesh.  And  I  will  put  my  spirit  within 
you,  and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  ye 
shall  keep  my  judgments,  and  do  them." 

In  the  28th  verse,  man  is  restored  to  the  place  and 
privileges  which  he  forfeited  by  his  sins — "Ye  shall 


THE    MESSSENGfER.  7 

be  my  people,  and  I  will  be  your  God."  "  This  land 
tliat  was  desolate,  is  become  like  the  garden  of  the 
Lord."  We  have  our  security  for  these  blessings  in 
the  assurance  of  the  36th  verse — "  I  the  Lord  have 
spoken  it,  and  I  will  do  it ;"  and  the  means  of  obtain- 
ing them  in  the  declaration  of  the  87th  verse — "I  will 
yet  for  this  be  enquired  of  by  the  house  of  Israel,  to 
do  it  for  them." 

Such  is  the  wide  and  interesting  field  that  lies  before 
us.     But  before  entering  upon  it,  let  us  consider — 

11.  The  party  who  is  commissioned  to  deliver  God's 
message. 

Who,  what  is  this  ambassador  of  Heaven  ?  An 
angel?  No;  but  a  man.  ''Son  of  man,"  says  the 
Lord.  In  the  first  verse  of  this  chapter  he  says — "Son 
of  man,  prophesy  unto  the  mountains."  In  the  8d 
verse  of  the  following  one  he  asks — "Son  of  man, 
can  these  bones  live?"  Again,  in  the  9th  verse  of  the 
same  chapter,  he  says — "  Son  of  man,  prophesy  unto 
the  wind. "  And,  still  addressing  him  by  the  same 
title,  in  the  11th  verse,  he  tells  the  prophet — "  Son  of 
man,  these  bones  are  the  whole  house  of  Israel."  By 
this  title  Ezekiel  is  so  often  addressed,  "  Son  of  man," 
*'  Son  of  man,"  is  so  constantly  sounded  both  in  his 
ears  and  ours,  that  it  forces  on  our  attention  this  re- 
markable fact,  that  God  deals  with  man  through  the 
instrumentality  of  man,  and  by  men  communicates 
his  will  to  men.  The  rain  which  descends  from  heaven 
falls  upon  the  surface  of  our  earth,  sinks  through  the 
porous  soil,  and,  flowing  along  rocky  fissures  or  veins 
of  sand,  is  conveyed  below  ground  to  the  fountain 
whence  it  springs.  Now,  although  out  of  the  earth, 
that  water  is  not  ''of  the  earth,  earthy."   The  world's 


8  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

deepest  well  owes  its  treasures  to  the  skies.  So  it  was 
with  the  revealed  will  of  God.  It  flowed  alono:  Im- 
man  channels,  yet  its  origin  was  more  than  celestial — 
it  was  divine.  Those  waters,  at  whose  springs  Faith 
drinks  and  lives,  while  conveyed  to  man  through  the 
instrumentality  of  man,  had  their  source  far  away  in 
the  throne  of  God  ;  their  fountain-head  is  the  Godhead. 
No  doubt,  God  could  have  used  other  instruniCntality. 
lie  might  have  commissioned  angels  on  his  errands  of 
mercy,  and  spoke  at  all  times,  as  he  did  sometimes,  by 
their  lips.  With  rare  exceptions,  however,  his  am- 
bassadors were  men.  The  patriarchs,  prophets,  and 
apostles,  by  whom  in  days  of  old  he  revealed  his  will — 
those  missionaries  of  heaven — were  all  sons  of  man. 
Now  in  this  arrangement  observe,  in  the  first  place — 
The  kindness  of  God  to  man.  Yv'ho  has  read  the 
story  of  Moses  without  feeling  that  it  was  a  great  kind 
ness,  both  to  him  and  his  mother,  that  he  had  a  mo- 
ther's bosom  to  lie  on — that  God  in  his  providence  rc 
arranged  matters  that  the  mother  was  hired  to  be  th** 
nurse  of  her  son  ?  who  else  would  have  treated  the 
outcast  so  lovingly  and  kindly  ?  And  I  hold  it  ^ 
singular  kindness  to  man  that  he  is  selected  to  be  the 
instrument  of  saving  his  fellow-men.  The  God  of  sal- 
vation, the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith,  might  have 
arranged  it  otherwise.  "  Who  shall  limit  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel  ?"  The  field  is  the  world ;  and  as  the 
husbandman  ploughs  his  fields  and  sows  his  seed  in 
spring  by  the  very  hands  that  bind  the  sheaves  of 
autumn,  God  might  have  sent  those  angels  to  sow  the 
Gospel,  who  shall  descend  at  judgment  to  reap  the 
harvest.  But  although  these  blessed  and  benevolent 
spirits  take  a  lively  interest  in  the  work,  and  arc 
sent  forth  to  minister  to  ihcm  that  are  heirs  of  salva 


THE   MESSENGER.  9 

tion — altliougH  watching  from  on  higli  the  progress  ot 
the  Eedeemer's  cause,  they  rejoice  in  each  new  jewel 
that  is  added  to  his  crown,  and  in  every  new  province 
that  is  won  for  his  kingdom ;  and  although  there  be 
more  joy  even  in  heaven  than  on  earth  when  man  is 
gaved — a  higher  joy  among  these  angels  "  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just 
persons" — yet  theirs  is  little  more  than  the  pleasure 
of  spectators.  Theirs  is  the  joy  of  those  who,  occupy- 
ing the  shore,  or  crowded  on  its  heights,  with  eager 
eyes  and  beating  heart  follow  the  bold  swimmer's 
movements,  and  watching  his  head  as  it  rises  and  sinks 
among  the  waves,  see  him  near  the  drowning  child, 
and  pluck  its  half-drowned  prey  from  the  billow; 
and,  still  trembling  lest  strength  should  fliil  him,  look 
on  with  anxious  hearts,  till,  buffeting  his  way  back, 
he  reaches  the  strand,  and  amid  their  shouts  and  sym- 
pathies restores  her  boy  to  the  arms  of  a  fainting 
mother. 

To  man,  however,  in  salvation,  it  is  given  to  share, 
not  a  spectator's  but  a  Saviour's  joy ;  and  with  his 
lips  at  least  to  taste  the  cup  for  which  Jesus  eiidured 
the  cross  and  despised  the  shame.  If  that  parent  is 
happy  who  snatches  a  child  from  the  flood  or  fire,  and 
the  child,  thus  saved,  and  twice  given  him,  becomes 
doubly  dear,  what  happiness  in  purity  or  permanence 
to  be  compared  with  his,  who  is  a  laborer  with  God 
in  saving  souls?  Let  me  invite  you  to  share  in  these 
pleasures,  the  sweetest,  I  assure  you,  out  of  heaven. 
This  is  a  privilege  and  a  pleasure  free  to  all.  It  is 
one  which  kings  caimot  purchase,  and  yet  beggars 
may  enjoy ;  and  one  also  (and  what  more  could  be 
Baid  of  it  ?)  which  enhances  the  joy  of  heaven.  While 
every  saint  shall  have  one  heaven,    some  shall  have 


10  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

more  ;  those  who  liave  helped  to  fill  its  mansions  shall 
possess  many  heavens  in  one.  In  proportion  to  the 
number  they  have  brought  to  Christ,  they  shall  mul- 
tiply their  joys — the  joys  which  eye  hath  not  seen, 
nor  ear  heard,  and  which  entereth  not  into  the  heart 
of  man  to  conceive.  In  this  arrangement  I  observe 
again — 

The  honor  conferred  on  man.  Did  Moses  occupy  a 
noble  position  when  he  stood  aloft  on  a  rock  amid 
the  dying  Israelites,  and  there,  the  central  figure  of 
the  camp,  on  whom  all  eyes  were  turned,  raised  that 
serpent,  to  look  on  which  was  life  ?  Nobler  still  his 
attitude  and  office,  who,  with  his  foot  on  this  dying 
world,  lifts  up  the  cross — "Jesus  Christ  and  him 
crucified" — that,  whosoever  looketh  and  belie veth  on 
him,  might  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  Give 
me  the  bleeding  Saviour,  make  me  the  instrument  of 
converting  a  single  soul,  and  I  grudge  not  Moses  his 
"  piece  of  brass  ;"  nor  envy  him  the  honor  of  saving 
a  thousand  lives,  that  are  now  all  quenched  in  death. 
Great  honor  to  the  memory  of  the  mighty  men  who 
swept  like  a  hurricane  through  the  camp  of  the  Philis- 
tines, and,  cleaving  their  way  through  opposing  foes, 
drew  the  water  of  Bethlehem  for  their  king ;  yet, 
rather  than  be  one  of  David's  mighty  men,  it  would 
3ontent  me  to  be  one  of  Christ's  humblest,  and  hold 
the  cup  of  life  to  a  pauper's  lips.  All  honor  to  the 
prophet  who  went  up  to  heaven  in  a  chariot  of  fire  ; 
but  nobler  still  his  departure,  who,  as  he  ascends  to 
glory,  leaves  spiritual  sons  behind  him  to  weep  by  the 
cast-off  mantle  of  his  flesh,  and  cry,  "  My  father,  my 
father,  the  chariots  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof!" 
What  honors  does  this  world  offer?  what  stars,  what 
jeweled   honours  flash  on  her  swelling  breast,  to  be 


THE   MESSENGER.  H 

for  one  moment  compared  with,  those  (vhich  they  win 
on  earth,  and  wear  in  heaven,  who  have  turned  souls 
from  darkness  to  hght — from  the  cursed  power  of  Satan 
to  the  living  God?  Each  soul  a  gem  in  their  crown, 
thej  that  have  turned  many  to  righteousness  shall 
shine  with  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  as  the  stars, 
for  ever  and  ever.  How  lias  the  hope  of  this  touched, 
as  with  fire,  the  preacher's  lips,  sustained  his  heart, 
held  up  prayer's  weary  hands,  and  proved  an  ample 
recompense  for  those  scanty  rewards  which  God's  ser- 
vants too  often  received  at  the  hands  of  men,  for  the 
penury  which  has  embittered,  and  the  hardships  which 
have  pressed  on  their  lot !  Their  master  was  rejected 
and  despised  of  men — a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquaint- 
ed with  grief;  and  the  disciple  being  no  better  than 
his  Lord,  they  have  shared  in  his  sufferings.  But,  if 
fellow-sufferers,  they  are  fellow-laborers  with  Christ — • 
his  associates  in  the  noblest  work  beneath  the  sun. 
Despised  as  the  teacher  of  the  Gospel  may  be,  the 
apostle  raises  him  to  an  eminence  from  which  he  may 
contemplate  this  world,  with  all  its  grandeur  and  glor\^, 
rolling  away  into  dark  oblivion.  Viewed  in  the  light 
of  eternity,  the  chiirch  stands  on  a  loftier  elevation 
than  the  palace,  and  the  pulpit  offers  man  a  grander 
position  than  the  throne  of  empires.  To  ministers 
of  the  Gospel  belongs  the  high  pre-eminence  of  being 
able  to  say,  "  we  are  fellow-laborers  with  God  ;"  and, 
with  such  an  associnte — in  such  lofty  company,  devot- 
ing his  life  to  such  a  cause — no  wonder  that  Paul  con- 
fronted a  skeptic,  sneering,  scoffing  world,  and  bravely 
said,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ." 

I  am  anxious  that  you  should  understand  that  the 
honors  that  I  have  spoken  of  are  not  reserved  for 
pulpits.    The  youth  vrho,  finding  Sabbath  rest  in  Chris- 


12  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

tian  labors,  holds  his  Sabbath-class  ;  the  mother,  wiih 
her  children  grouped  around  her,  sweet  solemnity 
sitting  in  her  face,  and  the  Bible  resting  on  her  knee; 
the  friend  who  deals  faithfully  with  another's  soul; 
any  man  who  kindly  takes  a  poor  sinner  by  the  hand, 
and  seeking  to  conduct  him  to  the  Saviour,  says,  "Corao 
with  us,  and  we  will  do  you  good ;"  "Arise,  for  we  have 
seen  the  land,  and  behold  it  is  very  good  ;"  these,  not  less 
than  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  are  fellow-laborers  with 
God.  Think  not  that  this  noblest  work  is  our  exclu- 
sive privilege,  nor  stand  back  as  if  you  had  neither 
right  nor  call  to  set  to  your  hand.  What  although 
in  the  church  you  hold  no  rank  ?  No  more  does  the 
private  who  wears  neither  stripes  on  his  arm  nor 
epaulettes  on  his  shoulder;  but  although  a  private, 
may  he  not  die  for  the  colors  which  it  is  not  his 
privilege  to  carry  ?  If  it  is  not  his  business  to  train 
recruits,  it  is  his  business,  and  shall  be  his  reward  to 
enlist  them.  Now  to  this  office,  to  recruit  the  ranks 
of  the  cross,  the  Gospel  calls  yoa — calls  all — calls  the 
meanest  soldier  in  the  army  of  the  faith.  "  The  Spirit 
and  the  bride  say  come."  But  more  than  they  should 
call.  Where  sinners  are  perishing,  where  opportunity 
offers,  where  a  door  is  open,  where  the  rule,  "  Let  all 
things  be  done  decently  and  in  order,"  is  not  outraged 
and  violated — call  it  preaching  if  you  choose,  but  in 
God's  name  let  hearers  preach.  lias  God  gifted  any 
with  power  to  speak  of  Christ?  Then,  with  such  high 
interests  at  stake,  from  forms  which  churches,  not  theii 
Head — man,  not  God,  has  established,  we  sa}^,  "loose 
him  and  let  him  go."  "  Let  him  that  heareth  say  come^ 
and  let  him  that  is  athirst  come ;  and  whosoever  will, 
let  him  take  of  the  water  of  life  freely." 

Thou  art  a  "son  of  man :"  yoM  bear  the  prophet's  title. 


THE   MESSENGER.  15 

whatsoever  otherwise  you  may  be.  Let  me  call  you 
to  the  prophet's  office.  The  Master  hath  need — much 
need  of  you.  Thousands,  tens  of  thousands,  are  dying 
in  their  sins.  Although  every  minister  were  as  a 
flaming  fire  in  the  service  of  his  God,  every  bishop  were 
a  Latimer,  every  reformer  were  a  Knox,  every  preach- 
er were  a  Whitefield,  every  missionary  were  a  Martyn, 
the  work  is  greater  than  ministers  can  accomplish; 
and  if  men  will  not  submit  that  the  interests  of  nations 
and  the  success  of  armies  shall  be  sacrificed  to  routine 
and  forms  of  office,  much  less  should  these  be  tolerated 
where  the  cause  of  souls  is  at  stake.  I  say,  therefore, 
to  every  Christian,  "  the  Master  hath  need"  of  you. 
Take  a  living,  loving  interest  in  souls.  Don't  leave 
them  to  perish.  It  may  be  the  duty  of  others  per- 
manently and  formally  to  instruct,  but  it  is  yours 
to  enlist.  "  This  honor  have  all  his  saints."  And  in 
attempting  to  engage  you  in  the  work  at  least  of  en- 
listing others,  and  of  recruiting,  out  of  your  flxmily, 
and  friends,  and  neighborhood,  the  armies  of  the 
faith,  I  call  you  to  a  work  in  which  every  man  may 
bear  his  share,  and  one  which  offers  honor  as  exalted 
as  its  pleasures  are  pure.  It  was  no  honor  to  Elijah 
to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  with  the  storm  at  his  back  to 
run  abreast  of  the  smoking  horses  of  Ahab's  chariot. 
Considering  who  the  parties  were,  it  had  been  as  meet, 
I  think,  that  the  king  should  have  run  and  the  pro- 
phet ridden.  But  to  run  by  the  chariot  where  Jesus  sits, 
his  crown  on  his  head,  his  bow  in  his  hand,  and  his 
Bword  by  his  thigh;  to  employ  our  feet  in  offices 
that  have  employed  angels'  wings ;  to  bear  the  news 
of  mercy  to  a  dying  sinner ;  and  to  gather  crowds 
arbund  the  Saviour,  that  they  may  strew  his  path 
with  palms,  and  swell  the  songof  Hosanna  to  the  Son 


14  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

of  David— -for  sucli  a  work  a  king  might  cast  offrobea 
and  crown. 

Yes — I  think  that  he  would  not  demean,  but  ra- 
ther dignify  his  office,  who  should  descend  from  a 
tlirone  where  subjects  kneel,  to  bend  his  knee  before 
God  by  a  peasant's  bed,  or  leave  his  palace  for  a  cell, 
to  watch,  and  weep,  and  pray  with  one  whom  crime 
had  consigned  to  death.  And,  as  surely  as  yon  pla- 
net worlds  that  roll  and  shine  above  us  draw  radiance 
from  the  sun  around  which  they  move,  so  surely  shall 
they  shine  who  spend  and  are  spent  in  Jesus'  service; 
they  shall  share  his  honors,  and  shine  in  his  luster. 
The  man,  however  lowly  his  condition,  who,  some 
way  between  liis  cradle  and  the  tomb,  has  converted 
even  one  soul  to  God,  has  not  lived  in  vain,  nor  la- 
bored for  nought ;  but  has  achieved  a  great  work. 
He  may  be  well  content  to  go  down  into  the  grave  by 
men  unpraised,  by  the  world  unknown.  His  works, 
if  they  have  not  preceded,  shall  follow  him  ;  and  need- 
ing no  tablet  raised  among  mouldering  bones  and 
tombstones,  he  has  a  monument  to  his  memory,  where 
there  are  neither  griefs  nor  graves,  more  costly  than 
brass  or  marble.  Others  may  have  filled  the  world 
with  the  breath  of  their  name ;  he  has  helped  to  fill 
heaven.  Others  may  have  won  an  earthly  renown ; 
but  he  who,  one  himself,  has  sought  to  make  others 
Christians — who,  reaching  the  rock  himself,  draws 
another,  a  perishing  child,  brother,  friend,  neighbor, 
up — plucked  from  the  flood  himself,  pulls  another  out 
— who  has  leaped  into  the  depths  that  he  might  rise 
with  a  pearl,  and  set  it  lustrous  in  Jesus'  crown — he 
is  the  man  who  shall  wear  heaven's  brightest  honors, 
and  to  whom,  before  all  else,  the  Lord  will  say,  "Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the 


THE   MESSENGER.  15 

Joy  of  thy  Lord."  Weak  in  yourselves,  but  strong  in 
God,  go  forth  on  this  enterprise,  your  prayer  the  wish 
of  Brainerd,  "  Oh  that  I  were  a  flaming  fire  in  the 
service  of  my  God !"  In  this  arrangement  we  see, 
lastly. 

The  ivisdom  of  God.  However  highly  gifted  he  may 
otherwise  be,  it  is  a  valid  objection  to  a  preacher,  that 
he  does  not  feel  what  he  says  ;  that  spoils  more  than 
his  oratory.  An  obscure  man  rose  up  to  address  the 
French  Convention.  At  the  close  of  his  oration,  Mi- 
rabeau,  the  giant  genius  of  the  Eevolution,  turned 
round  to  his  neighbor,  and  eagerly  asked.  Who  is 
that  ?  The  other,  who  had  been  in  no  way  interested 
by  the  address,  wondered  at  Mirabeau's  curiosity. 
Whereupon  the  latter  said,  That  man  will  yet  act  a 
great  part ;  and,  asked  to  explain  himself,  added,  he 
speaks  as  one  who  believes  every  word  he  says. 
Much  of  pulpit  power  under  God  depends  on  that — 
admits  of  that  explanation,  or  one  allied  to  it.  They 
make  others  feel  who  feel  themselves.  How  can  he 
plead  for  souls  who  does  not  know  the  value  of  his 
own  ?  How  can  he  recommend  a  Saviour  to  others 
who  himself  personally  despises  and  rejects  him  ?  Un- 
happy indeed,  and  doubly  blind  those  whose  leader  is 
as  blind  as  they  are ;  and  unhappiest  of  all  the  blind 
preacher ;  for  while  leader  and  led  shall  fall  into  the 
ditch,  he  falls  undermost — his  the  heaviest  condemna- 
tion, the  deepest  and  most  damned  perdition.  In  pos- 
session of  such  a  man — of  one  who  has  adopted  the 
church  as  other  men  the  law,  or  army,  or  navy,  as  a 
mere  profession,  and  goes  through  the  routine  of  its 
duties  with  the  coldness  of  an  oflUcial — the  pulpit 
seems  filled  with  the  ghastly  form  of  a  skeleton,  that 
in  its  cold  and  bony  fingers  holds  a  burning  lamp. 


16  THE   GOSPEL   IN   KZEKIEL. 

It  is  true  tliat  a  man  may  impart  light  to  otliera 
who  does  not  himself  see  the  light.  It  is  true  that, 
like  a  concave  speculum  cut  from  a  block  of  ice, 
which,  concentrating  the  rajs  of  the  sun,  kindles 
touchwood  or  gunpowder,  a  preacher  may  kindle  fire 
in  others,  when  his  own  heart  is  cold  as  frost.  It  is 
jilso  true  that  he  may  stand  like  a  finger-post  on  a 
rood,  where  he  neither  leads  nor  follows;  and  God 
may  thus  in  his  sovereign  mercy  bless  others  by  one 
who  is  himself  unblessed.  Yet  commonly  it  happens, 
that  it  is  what  comes  from  the  heart  of  preachers  that 
reaches  the  heart  of  hearers.  Like  a  ball  red  hot  from 
the  cannon's  mouth,  he  must  burn  himself  who  would 
set  others  on  fire.  Still,  although  the  ministry  of  men 
who  are  themselves  strangers  to  piety — although  a 
Judas  or  Simon  Magus  in  ofiice — is  an  evil  to  which 
the  church,  in  every  age  and  under  every  form  of  go- 
vernment, stands  more  or  less  exposed,  it  were  a  poor 
refuge  to  seek  exemption  from  such  an  evil,  even  in 
the  ministry  of  angels ;  because,  while  man  may  not 
feel  what  he  preaches,  angels  could  not.  How  could 
they  ?  They  never  felt  the  stings  of  conscience  ;  they 
never  hung  over  hell's  fiery  gulf,  and  saw  the  narrow 
ledge  they  stood  on  crumbling  away  beneath  their 
feet,  and  sent  up  to  heaven  the  piercing  cry,  "  Lord, 
save  me,  I  perish ;"  they  never  felt  the  power  and  peace 
of  Jesus'  blood ;  pursued  by  a  storm  of  wrath,  they 
never  flew  to  the  Kock  of  Ages,  and  folded  their 
wings  in  the  sweet  and  safe  serenity  of  its  welcome 
clefts;  they  never  thirsted  for  salvation;  in  an  agony 
for  pardon,  they  never  felt  ready  to  give  a  thousand 
worlds  for  one  Christ;  they  never,  as  we  have  done, 
trod  the  valley  of  humiliation,  and  walked  with  bleed- 
ing feet  and  weeping  eyes  its  flinty  path ;  they  never 


THE   MESSENGER.  17 

knew  what  it  is,  between  them  and  their  home  in 
heaven,  to  see  death's  gloomy  passage,  and,  more  ap- 
palling still,  a  sight  which  makes  the  saint  grasp  his 
sword  with  a  firmer  hand,  and  lift  up  his  shield  on 
hi^^h — Satan,  the  enemy,  posted  there,  and  striding 
across  the  passage  to  dispute  the  way — never  know- 
ing what  it  is  to  have  been  in  bondage,  having  nei- 
ther country  nor  kindred  here,  how  could  they  preach 
like  Paul  ?  how  could  their  bosoms  burn  with  this 
apostolic  fire — "I  could  wish  that  I  myself  were  ac- 
cursed from  Christ  for  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh  ?" 

We  have  somewhere  read  of  a  traveler  who  stood 
one  day  beside  the  cages  of  some  birds,  that,  exposed 
for  sale,  ruffled  their  sunny  plumage  on  the  wires,  and 
struggled  to  be  free.  A  way-worn  and  sun-browned 
man,  like  one  returned  from  foreign  lands,  he  looked 
wistfully  and  sadly  on  these  captives,  till  tears  started 
in  his  eye,  and  turning  round  on  their  owner,  he  asked 
the  price  of  one,  paid  it  in  strange  gold,  and  opening 
the  cage  set  the  prisoner  free ;  and  thus  and  thus  he 
did  with  captive  after  captive,  till  every  bird  was  away, 
soaring  to  the  skies  and  singing  on  the  wings  of  liberty. 
The  crowd  stared  and  stood  amazed;  they  thought 
him  mad,  till  to  the  question  of  their  curiosity  he 
replied — "  I  was  once  myself  a  captive ;  I  know  the 
sweets  of  liberty."  And  so  they  who  have  experience 
of  guilt,  have  felt  the  serpent's  bite,  the  burning  poison 
in  their  veins,  who  on  the  one  hand  have  felt  the  sting 
of  conscience,  and  on  the  other  the  peace  of  faith, 
the  joys  of  hope,  the  love,  the  light,  the  liberty,  the 
life,  that  are  found  in  Jesus — they,  not  excepting 
heaven's  highest  angels,  are  the  fittest  to  preach  a 
Saviour,  to  plead  with  man  for  God,  or  plead  with  God 


18  TUE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

for  man.  Each  Sabbath  morning  the  gates  of  heaven 
might  have  opened,  and,  sent  b}^  God  on  a  mission 
worthy  of  seraphic  fire,  an  angel  might  have  lighted 
down  upon  this  sanctuary,  and,  fljing  into  the  pulpit, 
when  he  had  folded  his  wings  and  used  them  to  vail 
his  glory,  he  might  have  taken  up  the  wondrous  theme 
of  salvation  and  the  cross.  No  angel  would  leave 
heaven  to  be  a  king  and  fill  a  throne  ;  but,  I  believe, 
were  it  God's  will,  there  is  no  angel  there  but  would 
hold  himself  honored  to  be  a  preacher  and  fill  a  pul- 
pit. Another  and  very  different  messenger  appears — 
a  frail,  djing,  sinful  man — one  who  is  bone  of  your 
bone,  and  flesh  of  your  flesh  ;  and  if  his  humanity 
made  Jesus  the  better  Saviour,  it  makes  his  servants  the 
better  ambassadors,  that  they  also  are  touched  with 
their  people's  infirmities,  and  are  made  in  all  points 
like  as  they  are,  and  especially  in  this  point,  that  we 
cannot  add,  "yet  without  sin." 

It  is  true  that  in  us  the  instrument  which  God 
employs  is  in  itself  a  humble  one — in  itself  worthy 
neither  of  honor  nor  respect:  the  treasure  is  commit- 
ted to  earthen  vessels,  sometimes  of  the  rudest  form 
and  the  coarsest  clay.  What  of  that  ?  If  the  letter 
from  a  foreign  land  brings  good  tidings  of  his  son, 
does  the  father  quarrel  with  the  meanness  of  the  pa- 
per? While  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude  drop  on  the 
page,  does  he  so  much  as  notice  it?  If  the  dish  offers 
safe  or  savory  meat,  a  starving  man  enjoj's  it  none  the 
less  that  it  is  not  served  up  on  gold  or  porcelain.  An 
ointment  worthy  of  the  IMaster's  head,  and  exhaling 
odors  that  fill  the  house,  is  as  welcome  from  a  sinner's 
as  an  angel's  hand — from  a  vessel  of  the  poorest  earth 
as  of  the  purest  alabaster.  Even  so  will  saving  truth 
bo  to  you,  if  God's  people.     Without  turning  him  into 


THE   MESSENGER.  19 

an  idol,  and  giving  the  honor  to  the  servant  which  is 
duo  to  the  Master,  I  am  sure  you  will  respect  the  ser- 
vant for  his  Master's  sake.  Are  some  of  you  yet 
sinners  in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  bond  of  iniquity  ? 
Because  we  are  ourselves  sinners,  and  know  wh:it  it 
is  to  have  been  captives,  we  are  the  fitter  to  addicsg 
you.  We  know  that  you  are  not  happy,  nor  can  be 
happy  in  sin;  its  pleasures  perish  in  the  using,  and 
pain  in  the  recollection  ;  and  it  is  madness,  the  height 
of  madness — for  a  man  to  stake  eternity  on  the  chances 
of  a  to-morrow,  and  purchase  sin's  short-lived  joys  at 
the  expense  of  eternal  happiness.  We  know  that  out 
of  Christ,  as  you  have  no  safet}^,  you  can  find  no  true 
peace.  "There  is  no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the 
wicked ;"  "  they  are  like  the  troubled  sea  which  can- 
not rest ;"  in  storms  a  raging  ocean,  and.  in  summer's 
serenest  day  ebbing  or  flowing,  and  breaking  its  bil- 
lows, like  the  world's  joys  and  happiness,  on  a  beach 
of  wrecks  and.  withered  weeds.  Seek  Christ,  seek 
your  peace  through  him  and  in  him ;  and,  saved  your- 
self— ^yourself  plucked  from  the  wreck — oh,  remember 
the  perishing,  and  let  the  first  breath  and  effort  of 
your  new  life  be  spent  for  others.  I  give  you  an  ex- 
ample ;  and  in  the  words  spoken  for  a  fellow-sufferer's 
life,  see  what  you  should  do  for  a  fellow-sinner's  soul. 
During  a  heavy  storm  ofi"  the  coast  of  Spain,  a  dis- 
masted merchantman  was  observed  by  a  British  frigate 
drifting  before  the  gale.  Every  eye  and  glass  were  on 
her,  and  a  canvas  shelter  on  a  deck  almost  level  Avith 
the  sea  suggested  the  idea  that  there  yet  might  be  life 
on  board.  With  all  his  faults,  no  man  is  more  alive 
to  humanity  than  the  rough  and  hardy  mariner ;  and 
so  the  order  instantly  sounds  to  put  the  ship  about, 
and  presently  a  boat  puts  off  with  ins'.ructions  to  bear 


20  THE   GOSPEL  IN   EZEKIEL. 

down  upon  the  wreck.  Away  after  that  drifting  hulk 
go  these  gallant  men  through  the  swell  of  a  roaring 
sea;  they  reach  it;  they  shout;  and  now  a  strange 
object  rolls  out  of  that  canvas  screen  against  the  lee 
shroud  of  a  broken  mast.  Hauled  into  the  boat,  it 
proves  to  be  the  trunk  of  a  man,  bent  head  and  knees 
together,  so  dried  and  shrivelled  as  to  be  hardly  felt 
within  the  ample  clothes,  and  so  light  that  a  mere  boy 
lifted  it  on  board.  It  is  laid  on  the  deck ;  in  horror 
and  pity  the  crew  gather  round  it;  it  shows  signs  of 
life  ;  they  draw  nearer;  it  moves,  and  then  mutters — 
mutters  in  a  deep,  sepulchral  voice — "  There  is  another 
many  Saved  himself,  the  first  use  the  saved  one  made 
of  speech  was  to  seek  to  save  another.  Oh !  learn 
that  blessed  lesson.  -Be  daily  practising  it.  And  so 
long  as  in  our  homes,  among  our  friends,  in  this  wreck 
of  a  world  which  is  drifting  down  to  ruin,  there  lives 
an  unconverted  one,  there  is  "  another  man,^^  let  us  go 
to  that  man,  and  plead  for  Christ ;  go  to  Christ  and 
plead  for  that  man  ;  the  cry,  "  Lord  save  me,  I  perish," 
changed  into  one  as  welcome  to  a  Saviour's  ear,  "Lord 
save  them,  they  perish." 


Cite  §tiiUx. 


Son  of  man,  when  the  house  of  Israel  dwelt  in  their  own  lan(X  Ujcv 
defiled  it  by  their  own  way,  and  by  their  doings. — Ezek.  xxxvL  17. 

"Thy  holy  cities  are  a  wilderness;  Zion  is  a  wil- 
derness; Jerusalem  is  a  desolation."  So  low  as  this 
had  the  fortunes  of  Israel  ebbed,  when  the  words  o^ 
my  text  were  penned.  Judah  was  in  chains ;  the 
people  were  captives  in  the  hands  of  heathen — exiles 
in  the  land  of  Babylon.  Jerusalem  lay  in  ruins;  the 
grass  grew  long  and  rank  in  her  deserted  streets ;  an 
awful  silence  filled  the  temple  ;  the  fox  looked  out  of 
the  window,  and  the  foul  satyr  had  her  den  in  the 
Holy  of  Holies.  Ko  plough  turned  a  furrow  in  the 
field ;  the  vines  grew  wild  and  tangled  on  the  crumb- 
ling terraces  ;  nor  cock  crew,  nor  dog  bayed,  nor  flock 
bleated,  nor  maid  sang,  nor  shepherd  piped,  nor  smoke 
curled  up  from  homestead  among  the  lonely  hills. 
The  land  was  desolate,  almost  utterly  desolate.  She 
now  enjoyed  what  the  love  of  pleasure  and  the  greed 
of  gain  had  denied  her ;  she  rested,  and  had  a  long 
Sabbath  ;  while  over  an  expatriated  people,  far  away 
beyond  the  desert,  and  beside  the  river,  the  seventy 
years'  captivity  rolled  wearily  on.  A  few  pious  men, 
who  had  in  vain  tried  to  stem  the  flood-tide  of  sin 
which  swept  the  nation  on  to  ruin,  were  mourning 
over  the  guilt  of  which  captivity  was  the  punishment. 
Wearying  to  be  home  again  they  cried,  "  How  long, 
O  Lord,  how  long?     Wilt  thou  be  angry  for  ever? 


22  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIKT.. 

Shall  tlij  jealousy  burn  like  fire  ?"  "  Be  not  wroth 
very  sore,  0  Lord,  neither  remember  iniquity  for  ever. 
Behold,  see,  we  beseech  thee,  we  are  all  thy  people ; 
thy  holy  cities  are  a  wilderness;  Zion  is  a  wilderness; 
Jerusalem  a  desolation."  "  Turn  us  again,  Lord.  God 
of  Hosts,  and  cause  thy  face  to  shine  on  us,  and  so  we 
shall  be  saved." 

So  they  felt  and  prayed  who  were  as  salt  in  the 
putrid  mass.  The  larger  portion,  however,  as  has  too 
often  been  the  case  in  the  visible  church,  lived  only 
to  dishonor  their  faith,  their  creed,  their  country  and 
their  race.  Like  many  still  who  go  abroad,  and  in  leav- 
ing their  native  land  leave  behind  them  all  appearance 
of  piely,  they  profaned  God's  holy  name,  and  gave  the 
scoffer  abundant  occasion  for  this  bitter  and  biting 
sneer — "These  are  the  people  of  the  Lord!"  In  its 
application  to  the  contemporaries  of  Ezekiel,  the 
prophet  briefly  describes  these  sad  and  sinful  days, 
and  also  refers  to  that  preceding  period  of  deep  and 
wide  degeneracy,  when  the  corruption  of  kings, 
princes,  priests  and  people,  had  grown  so  great,  that, 
to  use  the  words  of  Scripture,  "  Their  trespass  was 
grown  up  to  the  heavens."  The  patience  of  God  at 
length  exhausted,  as  he  "  drove"  the  man  and  woman 
from  the  garden,  he  drove  Israel  from  a  land  which 
their  sins  had  defiled. 

However  much  we  may  abhor  their  crimes,  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  pity  tlie  sufferers — in  a  sense  to  sym-. 
pathise  with  them.  Arc  we  men  who,  in  the  case  of 
an  invasion,  would  take  a  bold  position  on  the  shore, 
and  fight  every  inch  of  ground,  and  when  driven 
back  would  take  our  last  stand  in  our  own  doorway, 
nor  allow  the  foot  of  foe  to  pass  there  but  over  our 
dead  body  ?     If  our  bosom  burns  with  any  patriotic 


THE    DEFILE R.  23 

fire,  if  we  have  the  common  affections  of  men  for 
family  and  friends,  it  is  impossible  to  look  with  insen- 
sibility at  that  bleeding  fragment  of  a  nation  gathered 
for  the  march  to  Babylon,  amid  the  blackened  and 
blood-stained  ruins  of  their  capital.  "What  a  mournful 
compan}'  !  The  sick,  the  bedrid,  the  blind,  old  men 
tottering  forth  on  tlie  staff  of  age,  and  plucking  their 
gray  beards  with  grief;  the  skeleton  infant  hanging 
on  a  breast  that  famine  and  sorrow  have  dried ;  mothers 
with  terror-stricken  children  clinging  to  their  sides, 
or,  worse  still,  with  gentle  daughters  imploring  their 
protection  from  these  rude  and  ruffian  soldiers ;  a  few 
gallant  men,  the  survivors  of  the  fight,  wasted  by 
fjxmine,  bleeding  from  unbandaged  wounds,  their  arms 
bound,  and  burning  tears  streaming  down  their  cheeks, 
as  they  looked  on  wives  and  daughters  shrieking  and 
helpless  in  the  arms  of  brutal  passion ;  how  they 
strain  at  their  bonds!  and  bitterly  envy  their  more 
fortunate  companions  who  lay  in  the  bloody  breach, 
nor  had  survived  to  see  tlie  horrors  of  that  day  !  The 
piety  that  abhors  the  sins  of  this  people  is  not  incom- 
patible with  the  pity  that  sympathises  with  their 
sorrows ;  and  could  sit  down  and  weep  with  Jeremiah, 
as,  seated  on  a  broken  pillar  of  the  temple,  desolation 
around  him,  and  no  sound  in  his  ear  but  the  long,  v/ild 
wail  of  the  captive  band,  he  wrung  his  hands,  raised 
them  to  heaven,  and  cried,  "Oh  that  my  head  Y*^ero 
waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,  that  I  might 
weep  day  and  night  for  the  slain  of  the  daughter  of 
my  people." 

There  was  a  home-leaving,  however,  in  which  we 
feel  a  nearer  interest.  I  do  not  refer  to  that  eventful 
morning  when  some  of  us  left  a  father's  house ;  and 
the  gates  of  that  happy  sanctuary  opened,  f«mid  tears 


24  THE   GOSPEL    IN   f:ZEKIEL. 

and  fears  and  many  a  kind  farewell — and  when  watch 
ed  by  a  father's  eye,  and  followed  by  a  mother's  pray- 
ers, we  pushed  out  our  bark  on  the  swell  of  life's 
treacherous  sea.  The  turning  time  of  many  a  young 
man's  historj^, — the  crisis  of  his  destiny, — that  day 
may  have  exerted  an  influence  as  permanent  on  our 
fate  as  its  impression  remains  indelible  on  our  mem- 
ory. I  refer  to  a  home-leaving  of  far  older  date ;  to 
one,  not  of  personal,  nor  of  national,  but  of  universal 
interest.  My  eye  is  turned  back  on  the  day  when  our 
tirst  parents,  who  had  fallen  into  sin  and  forfeited  their 
inheritance,  were  expelled  from  man's  first  home.  And, 
recollecting  the  reluctance  with  which  I  have  seen  a 
heart  broken  mother  make  up  her  mind  to  disown  the 
prodigal,  and  drive  him  from  her  door, — knowing, 
when  with  slow  and  trembling  hand  she  had  barred 
him  out,  how  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  in  that  horrid 
sound  she  had  heard  the  door  of  heaven  bolted  against 
him, — and  feeling  how  much  provocation  we  ourselves 
could  suffer,  ere  a  bleeding  heart  would  consent  to 
turn  a  child  out  upon  the  open  streets,  and  believing 
also  that  our  Father  in  heaven  is  kinder  than  the 
kindest,  and  better  than  the  best  of  us,  and  that  the 
fondest,  fullest  heart  is  to  his,  but  as  the  rocky  pool, 
— the  lodge  of  some  tiny  creature — to  the  great  ocean 
which  has  filled  it  with  a  wave,  no  demonstration  of 
God's  abhorrence  of  sin  (always  excepting  the  cross  of 
Calvary)  comes  so  impressively  to  our  hearts  as  his 
expulsion  of  our  unhappy  parents  from  his  own  bliss- 
ful presence  and  their  sweet  home  in  Eden.  Wlien 
with  slow  and  lingering  steps  Adam  and  Eve  came 
weeping  forth  from  Paradise,  and  the  gate  was  locked 
behind  them,  that  was  the  bitterst  home-leaving  the 
world  ever  saw.   Adam,  the  federal  head  of  his  family 


THE   DEFJLER.  25 

— they  came  not  alone,  but  are  followed  bj  a  longer 
and  sadder  procession  than  went  weeping  on  the  way 
to  Babylon :  they  are  followed  by  a  world  in  tears. 
Cast  out  in  them — in  them  condemned  and  expatriated 
— we  all  defiled  the  land  wherem  we  dwelt.  In  this 
Eense  the  world  sinned  in  Adam,  and  defiled  the  happy 
bowers  of  Eden;  and  the  universality  of  sin  stands 
.^irm  on  the  universality  of  the  sentence,  "Death  has 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned." 

I.  Let  us  look  at  man  sinning.  "Ye  have  defiled 
the  land." 

Sin  is  presented  here  in  the  aspect  of  a  defilement. 
But  before  fixing  your  attention  on  this  feature,  I  may 
remark,  that  it  offers  but  one  of  many  aspects  in  which 
sin  appears;  all  alarming,  all  hateful,  all  detestable. 

As  opposed  to  sin  and  its  consequences,  heaven  and 
holiness  ar-^  pictured  forth  in  the  Bible  in  colors 
that  glow  upon  the  canvas,  through  the  emblems  ol 
every  thing  we  hold  most  dear  and  desirable.  Raise 
your  eyes,  for  example,  to  the  New  Jerusalem.  Gold 
paves  its  streets,  and  around  them  rise  walls  of  jasper. 
Earth  holds  no  such  city,  nor  the  depths  of  ocean  such 
pearls  as  form  its  gates ;  no  storms  sweep  its  sea  :  no 
winter  strips  its  trees;  no  thunder  shakes  its  serene 
and  cloudless  sky  ;  the  day  there  never  darkens  into 
night ;  harps  and  palms  are  in  the  hands,  while 
crowns  of  glory  flash  and  blaze  upon  the  heads  of  its 
sinless  inhabitants.  From  this  distant  and  stormy 
orb,  as  the  d(we  eyed  the  ark,  faith  eyes  this  glorious 
vision,  and,  weary  of  the  strife,  longing  to  be  gone, 
cries,  "  Oh  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove,  that  1 
might  fly  away  and  be  at  rest !" 

And  how  difficult  would  it  be  to  name  a  noble 


26  TUK   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

iigure,  a  sweet  simile,  a  tender  or  attractive  relation- 
sliip,  in  wliicli  Jesus  is  not  set  forth  to  woo  a  reluctant 
sinner  and  cheer  a  desponding  saint!  Am  I  wound- 
ed? lie  is  balm.  Am  I  sick?  He  is  medicine.  Am 
I  naked?  He  is  clothing.  Am  I  poor?  He  is 
w^ealtlh  Am  I  hungry?  He  is  bread.  Am  I  thirstj-? 
He  is  water.  Am  I  in  debt?  He  is  a  surety.  Am 
I  in  darkness!  He  is  a  sun.  Have  I  a  house  to 
build?  He  is  a  rock.  Must  I  face  that  black  and 
gathering  storm  ?  He  is  a  anchor  sure  and  stead- 
fast. Am  I  to  be  tried  ?  He  is  an  advocate.  Is  sen 
tence  passed,  and  am  I  condemned?  He  is  pardon. 
To  deck  him  out,  and  set  him  forth,  Nature  culls  her 
finest  flowers,  brings  her  choicest  ornaments,  and  lays 
these  treasures  at  his  feet.  The  skies  contribute  their 
stars.  The  sea  gives  up  its  pearls.  From  fields,  and 
mines,  and  mountains,  Earth  brings  the  tribute  of  ber 
gold,  and  gems,  and  myrrh,  and  frankincense ;  the 
lily  of  the  valley,  the  clustered  vine,  and  the  fragrant 
rose  of  Sharon.  He  is  "  the  chiefest  among  ten  thou- 
sand, and  altogether  lovely;"  "in  Him  dwelleth  all 
the  fullness  of  the  Godhead  bodily."  I  ofter  him  to 
you — make  a  free  offer  of  him,  and  doing  so  will  chal- 
lenge you  to  name  a  want  for  which  I  shall  not  find  a 
supply  in  Christ,  something  that  fits  your  want  aa 
accurately,  as  the  w^orks  of  a  key  the  wards  of  ita 
lock. 

"  A  Way  be  is  to  lost  ones  that  Lave  strayed ; 

A  Robe  be  is  to  such  as  naked  be  ; 
Is  any  hungry,  to  all  such  he  is  Bread  ; 

Is  any  weak,  in  Him  bow  strong  is  he  I 
To  him  that's  dead  he's  Life ;  to  sick  men,  Health  , 
Eyes  to  the  blind,  and  to  the  poor  man  Wcnltli." 

Look  now  at  sin  ;  pluck  ofi*  that  painted  mask,  and 


THE   DEFILER.  27 

turn  upon  her  face  the  lamp  of  the  Bible.  We  start ; 
it  reveals  a  death's  head.  I  stay  not  to  quote  texts 
descriptive  of  sin ;  it  is  a  debt,  a  burden,  a  thief,  a 
sickness,  a  lepros}^,  a  plague,  a  poison,  a  serpent,  a 
sting — every  thing  that  man  hates  it  is;  a  load  of 
evils  beneath  whose  most  crushing,  intolerable  pres- 
Eure,  "  the  whole  creation  groaneth."  Name  me  the 
evil  that  springs  not  from  this  root — the  crime  that 
lies  not  at  this  door.  Who  is  the  hoary  sexton  that 
digs  man  a  grave?  Who  is  the  painted  temptress 
that  steals  his  virtue?  Who  is  the  murderess  that 
destroys  his  life  ?  Who  is  the  sorceress  that  first  de- 
ceives and  then  damns  his  soul ! — Sin.  Who,  with 
icy  breath,  blights  the  sweet  blosssoms  of  youth  ? 
Who  breaks  the  hearts  of  parents  ?  Who  brings  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave?  Who,  by  a  more 
hideous  metamorphosis  than  Ovid  ever  fancied,  changes 
sweet  children  into  vipers,  tender  mothers  into  mon- 
sters, and  their  fathers  into  worse  than  Herods,  the 
murderers  of  their  own  innocents? — Sin.  Who  casts 
the  apple  of  discord  on  home  hearths  ?  Who  lights 
the  torch  of  war,  and  carries  it  over  happy  lands? 
Who,  by  divisions  in  the  Church,  rends  Christ's  seam- 
less robe  ? — Sin.  Who  is  this  Delilah  that  sings  the 
Kazarite  asleep,  and  delivers  the  strength  of  God  into 
the  hands  of  the  uncircumcised  ?  Who,  with  smiles 
on  her  face,  and  honied  flattery  on  her  tongue,  stands 
in  the  door  to  offer  the  sacred  rites  of  hospitali  ty,  and 
when  suspicion  sleeps,  pierces  our  temples  with  a 
nail  ?  What  Siren  is  this,  who,  seated  on  a  rock  by 
the  deadly  pool,  smiles  to  deceive,  sings  to  lure,  kisseo 
to  betray,  and  flings  her  arms  around  our  neck,  to 
leap  with  us  into  perdition  ? — Sin.  Who  petrifies  the 
soft  and  gentle  heart,  hurls  reason  from  her  throne, 


28  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  impels  sinners,  mad  as  Gadarene  swine,  down  tbe 
precipice,  into  the  lake  of  fire  ? — Sin.  Who,  having 
brought  the  criminal  to  the  gallows,  persuades  him  to 
refuse  a  pardon,  and  with  his  own  hand  to  bar  the 
door  against  the  messenger  of  mercy?  What  witch 
of  hell  is  it,  that  thus  bewitches  us? — Sin.  Who 
nailed  the  Son  of  God  to  that  bloody  tree  ?  and  who, 
as  if  it  were  not  a  dove  descending  with  the  olive,  but 
a  vulture  swooping  down  to  devour  the  dying,  vexes, 
grieves,  thwarts,  repels,  drives  off  the  Spirit  of  God? 
Who  is  it  that  makes  man  in  his  heart  and  habits 
baser  than  a  beast ;  and  him,  who  was  once  but  little 
lower  than  an  angel,  but  little  better  than  a  devil? 
— Sin.  Sin !  Thou  art  a  hateful  and  horrible  thing ; 
that  "  abominable  thing  which  God  hates."  And 
what  wonder?  'Thou  hast  insulted  his  Holy  Majesty? 
thou  hast  bereaved  him  of  beloved  children;  thou 
nast  crucified  the  Son  of  his  infinite  love ;  thou  hast 
vexed  his  gracious  Spirit ;  thou  hast  defied  his  power; 
thou  hast  despised  his  grace;  and,  in  the  body  and 
blood  of  Jesus,  as  if  that  were  a  common  thing,  thou 
hast  trodden  under  foot  his  matchless  mercy.  Surely, 
brethren,  the  wonder  of  wonders  is,  that  sin  is  not  that 
abominable  thing  which  we  also  hate. 

But  let  us  leave  what  is  general,  to  fix  our  atten- 
tion on  the  view  of  sin  which  the  text  presents.  It  is 
set  before  us  here  as  a  defilement ;  and  I  may  remark, 
that  it  is  the  only  thing  that  in  the  eye  of  God  does 
deform  and  defile  us.  Yet  how  strange  it  is,  that  some 
deformity  of  body  shall  prove  the  subject  of  more 
parental  regrets  and  personal  mortification  than  this 
foul  deformity  of  soul.  It  is  miserable  to  think  how 
hearts  have  grieved,  and  even  eyes,  which  got  their 
tears   surely   for   better    uses,   have   wept   over   the 


THE   DEFILER.  29 

stain  of  some  costly  dress,  which  never  grieved  and 
never  wept  for  a  sin-stained  soul.  What  pains  are 
taken,  what  costs  and  cares  incurred,  to  bedeck  the 
body  for  the  house  of  God,  as  if  that  flimsy  finery 
could  conceal  or  compensate  for  a  foul  heart  within ! 
Your  manners  may  have  acquired  a  courtly  polish ; 
your  dress  may  rival  the  winter's  snow ;  unaccustomed 
to  menial  offices,  and  sparkling  with  Indian  gems, 
your  hands  may  bear  no  stain  on  them,  yet  they  are 
not  clean ;  nay,  beneath  this  graceful  exterior  may 
lie  concealed  more  foul  pollution  than  is  covered  by  a 
beggar's  rags.  This  son  of  toil,  from  whose  very 
touch  your  delicacy  shrinks,  and  who,  till  Sabbath 
stops  the  wheels  of  business,  and  with  her  kind  hand 
wipes  the  sweat  of  labor  from  his  brow,  never  knows 
the  full  comfort  of  a  cleanly  habit,  may  have  a  heart 
within,  which,  compared  with  yours,  is  purity  itself. 
Beneath  this  soiled  raiment,  all  unseen  by  the  world's 
eye,  he  wears  the  "clean  linen"  of  a  Redeemer's 
righteousness.  His  speech  may  be  rude,  his  accent 
vulgar;  but  let  him  open  his  heart,  unbosom  its 
secrets,  and  from  these  there  come  forth  such  gracious 
thoughts,  such  holy  desires,  such  heavenly  aspirations, 
such  hallowed  joys,  that  it  seems  as  if  we  had  opened 
some  rude  sea-chest,  brought  by  a  foreign  ship  from 
southern  lands,  which,  full  to  the  lid  with  pearls,  and 
gold,  and  diamonds,  loads  the  air  with  floating  odors 
of  cassia,  and  myrrh,  and  frankincense. 

Hypocrite,  and  dead  professor  I  let  us  open  thy 
bosom :  full  of  all  corruption,  how  it  smells  like  a 
charnel-house !  We  are  driven  back  by  the  noisome 
stench — we  hasten  to  close  the  door ;  it  is  a  painted 
but  putrid  sepulcher,  whose  fair  exterior  but  aggra- 
vates the  foulness  within.     It  is  not  what  lies  without, 


^0  THE   GOSPKL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

but  witliin,  that  defiles  a  man.  And  it  is  well  all 
should  remember,  when  you.  wash  on  a  Sabbath 
morning,  that  your  soul  needs  washing  in  another 
laver;  and,  when  your  person  is  decked  for  church, 
that  you  need  other  robes — robes  fairer  than  worm 
spins  or  shuttles  weave,  or  the  wealth  of  banks  can 
buy.  See  that  by  faith  je  put  on  that  righteousness, 
even  that  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  which  God 
sees  neither  spot,  nor  stain,  nor  any  such  thing. 

II.  The  nature  of  this  defilement. 

It  is  internal.  Like  snow  drift  when  it  has  leveled 
the  churchyard  mounds,  and,  glistening  in  the  winter 
sun,  lies  so  pure,  and  fair,  and  beautiful  above  the 
dead,  who  fester  and  rot  below,  a  very  plausible 
profession,  wearing  the  semblance  of  innocence,  may 
conceal  from  human  eyes  the  foulest  heart-corruption. 
The  grass  grows  green  upon  a  mountain  that  holds  a 
volcano  in  its  bowels.  Behind  the  rosy  cheek  and 
soft  lustrous  eye  of  beauty,  how  often  does  there  lurk 
a  deadly  disease,  the  deadliest  of  all  I  Internal,  but 
all  the  more  dangerous  that  they  are  internal,  such 
diseases  are  the  last  to  be  suspected  or  believed  in  by 
their  victims,  and  the  hardest  to  cure.  To  other  than 
a  skillful  eye,  or  a  mother's  anxious  look,  this  fair  and 
graceful  form  never  wears  bloom  of  higher  health,  nor 
moves  in  more  fascinating  charms,  nor  wins  more 
admiring  eyes,  tlian  when  fell  consumption,  like  a 
miner  working  on  in  darkness,  has  penetrated  the 
vital  organs,  and  is  quietlj^  sapping  the  foundations 
of  life. 

Like  these  maladies,  sin  has  its  seat  within.  It  is  a 
disease  of  the  heart,  and  the  worst  of  all  heart-com- 
plaints.    There  mav  be  no  very  alarming  appearance 


THE   DEFILE R.  31 

on  the  surface;  in  the  conduct  that  lies  exposed  to 
the  eyes  of  man  there  may  be  little  offensive  to  holi- 
ness ;  yet  this  fair  exterior  affords  no  criterion,  no 
sure  or  certain  test  by  which  to  judge  of  matters 
within.  Thanks  indeed  be  to  God,  and  praise  to  his 
sovereign  grace,  if  sin  does  not  find  unchallenged 
entrance,  and  meet  a  cordial  welcome  in  our  inner 
man ;  yet  how  constant  and  arduous  is  the  fight  which 
even  gracious  men  have  to  maintain  against  the  ten- 
dency to  secret  errors!  Tlie  old  man  has  been  nailed 
to  the  tree,  but  how  difficult  to  keep  him  there ! 
How  difficult  to  keep  pollution  down,  and  maintain  a 
current  of  pure  and  hallowed  desires  flowing  through 
the  channels  of  the  heart !  In  judging  ourselves  that 
we  be  not  judged,  beware  how  you  trust  to  outward 
appearances.  What  if  it  should  be  with  us  as  with 
this  calm  pool,  which  seems  so  clean,  nay,  with 
heaven  mirrored  in  its  fiice,  so  beautiful  ?  Let  some 
temptation  stir  up  our  passions,  (and  how  little  does 
it  need  to  stir  them !)  and  those  pure,  pellucid  waters 
now  grow  foul  and  noisome ;  and,  sending  forth  the 
most  offensive  odors,  prove  what  vile  pollution  may 
lie  beneath  the  fairest  surface.  Think  not  that  the 
evil  is  accidental — that  it  lies,  as  some  say,  in  educa- 
tion, in  temptation,  in  external  causes:  it  is  traceable 
to  the  heart  itself  What  more  harmless  than  temp- 
tations— this  fiery  dart  launched  by  Satan's  hand — 
that  flaming  arrow  from  his  bow — if  they  fell  like 
sparks  in  water?  But  alas!  they  fall  like  a  torch 
into  a  magazine  of  combustibles.  Knowing  this,  and 
jealous  of  themselves,  let  God's  people  watch  and  pray 
that  they  enter  not  into  temptation.  To  life's  last 
step,  with  life's  latest  breath,  be  this  your  prayer, 
"Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver   us  from 


82  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

evil."  It  is  another  prayer,  indeed,  that  the  sinner 
has  to  offer,  lie  has  not  to  seek  that  his  heart  may 
be  kept  clean,  but  made  clean ;  it  is  not  health  pre- 
ccrved,  but  restored,  you  want;  you  need  not  food, 
but  medicine;  a  new  nature,  heart,  life:  this  the 
prayer  that  suits  your  lips  and  case:  "Create  in  mo 
a  clean  heart,  0  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within 
me." 

This  defilement  is  universal.  Our  world  is  inhabited 
by  various  races  of  men — different  specimens,  not  dif- 
ferent species.  The  Malay,  the  Negro,  the  race  early 
cradled  among  Caucasian  mountains,  and  the  Red  In- 
dians of  the  New  World  ;  these  all  differ  from  each 
other  in  the  color  of  the  skin,  in  the  contour  of  the 
skull,  in  the  cast  and  character  of  their  features. 
Whence  came  these  different  races?  The  Bible  says 
that  "  God  made  of  one  blood  all  the  families  of  the 
earth."  According  to  its  authority  they  are  all  sprung 
of  one  pair,  who  were  located  in  a  garden  some- 
where in  the  distant  east.  There,  in  that  central  and 
elevated  region  of  the  old  world,  man  was  both  made 
and  redeemed  ;  there  the  cradle  of  our  race  was  rock- 
ed, and  the  cross  of  salvation  raised ;  and,  breaking 
forth  in  an  eastern  region,  the  lights  of  knowledge  and 
religion,  learning  human  and  divine,  letters,  science, 
and  arts  have,  as  by  a  law  of  nature,  followed  the 
track  of  the  sun.  The  origin  of  these  different  races 
is  a  question  of  no  small  importance,  and  has  formed 
a  battle-ground  between  the  enemies  and  defenders 
of  our  faith  ;  one  long  and  obstinately  contested. 

If,  in  order  to  account  for  these  different  races  on 
the  principles  of  unchallengeable  physiology,  it  could 
be  proved,  that  Europe,  Africa,  and  America  must, 
as   w^5/   as  Asia,  have  had   their  parent  pairs ;  if  it 


THE  DEFTLER.  33 

could  be  proved  that  there  must  of  necessity  have 
been  as  many  Adams  as  there  are  races  of  men,  then 
it  is  plain  that  we  must  yield  up  the  divine  autho- 
rity of  the  Bible,  and  read  the  story  of  Moses  as  an 
old-world  fable — some  fragment  of  Egyptian  wisdom 
whioh  he  had  embalmed  in  the  page  of  Genesis.  In- 
fidelity, quick  to  see  what  would  serve  her  purpose, 
has  attempted  to  prove  this,  and  challenged  religion 
to  meet  her  on  the  field  of  science.  Her  challenge  has 
been  accepted.  Men-at-arms  in  the  ranks  of  the  faith 
have  taken  up  the  gauntlet;  the  battle  has  been 
fought,  and  fought  out;  and  now,  to  the  confusion 
and  complete  discomfiture  of  the  infidel,  it  stands  de- 
monstrated, that  in  this  question  as  in  others,  science 
is  in  perfect  harmony  with  revelation.  Dismissing  all 
Adams  but  one,  she  demands  no  more  than  the  Bible 
grants,  will  receive  no  more  than  it  offers,  believe  no 
more  than  it  reveals ;  concluding  that  all  these  vari- 
eties of  the  human  family  are,  in  the  providence  of 
God,  and  in  the  hands  of  an  Omnipotence  which  de- 
lights in  variety,  the  offspring  of  a  single  pair. 

There  is  one  argument  which  these  unhired,  impar- 
tial, and  independent  defenders  of  our  faith — these 
high-priests  of  science — did  not,  perhaps,  feel  warrant- 
ed to  employ,  but  which  presents  to  us  the  most  con- 
vincing evidence  of  a  common  origin.  It  lies  where 
the  tests  of  chemistry  cannot  detect  it,  nor  the  knife 
of  the  anatomist  reach  it,  nor  the  eye  of  the  physiog- 
nomist discover  it,  nor  the  instruments  of  the  phreno- 
logist measure  it.  Its  place  is  in  the  inner  man  ;  it 
lies  in  the  depths  of  the  soul ;  and  comes  out  in  this 
remarkable  fact,  that,  although  the  hues  of  the  skin 
differ,  and  the  form  of  the  skull  and  the  features  of 
the  face  are  cast  in  different  moulds,  the  features,  co- 
2* 


34  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

lor,  and  character  of  the  heart  are  the  same  in  all  men. 
Be  he  pale-faced  or  red,  tawny  or  black,  Jew,  Greek, 
Scythian,  bond  or  free  ;  whether  he  be  the  civilized  in 
habitant  of  Europe,  or  roam  a  painted  savage  in  Ame« 
rican  woods,  pant  beneath  the  burning  line,  or,  wrapt 
in  furs,  shiver  amid  the  Arctic  snows;  as  in  all  classes 
of  society,  so  in  all  races  of  men,  to  quote  the  words 
of  the  prophet,  "  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked;"  or,  in  the  no  less  emphatic 
language  of  the  Apostle,  "  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity 
against  God."  The  pendulum  vibrates  slower  at  the 
equator  than  the  pole  ;  the  further  north  we  push  our 
way  over  thick-ribbed  ice,  the  clock  goes  the  faster ; 
but  parallels  of  latitude  have  no  modifying  influence 
on  the  motions  of  the  heart.  It  beats  the  same  in  all 
men ;  nor,  till  repaired  by  grace,  does  it  in  any  beat 
true  to  God.  In  Adam  all  have  died — have  sinned, 
and  therefore  died.  Sin,  like  our  atmosphere,  em- 
braces the  world.  Like  death,  it  is  universal ;  its  em- 
pire is  coeval  and  co-extensive  with  that  of  the  king 
of  terrors.     And  how  can  it  be  otherwise?     If  man  is 

)    the  child  of  unholy  parents,  how  can  a  clean  thing 

V    2ome  out  of  an  unclean  ?     When  water  of  its  own 

accord  shall  rise  above  its  fountain,  then  may  Adam's 

children  possess  a  nature  loftier  than  his  own.     The 

/  tree  is  diseased,  not  at  the  top,  but  at  the  root;  and, 
therefore,  no  branch  of  the  human  family  can  by  pos- 
sibility escape  being  affected  by  sin.  Is  any  thing 
more  plain  and  palpable  than  this,  that  if  the  fountain 
was  polluted,  to  whatever  quarter  of  the  world  the 

I  stream  of  population  flowed,  it  must  have  borne  pol- 
lution in  its  bosom  ?  Is  suffering  the  sure  index  of 
sin?  Then,  if  there  be  no  country  beneath  the  sun 
where  si^jns  of  sufferin(]f  are  not  seen,  and  its  sounds 


THE   DEFILER.  35 

are  not  heard,  sin  is  every  where — is  in  every  man. 
Be  they  dug  in  Arctic  snows,  or  in  the  desert  sands, 
there  is  no  land  without  its  graves;  nor,  wherever  it 
stands,  a  city  without  its  cemetery.  Be  they  mon- 
archies or  republics,  unaffected,  by  the  revolutions  that 
cast  down  other  dynasties,  death  reigns  in  them  all — 
a  king  of  kings.  Death  sits  on  the  world's  oldest 
throne.  Suffering  the  stings  of  conscience,  sin  and 
serpent-bitten,  man  is  condemned  by  a  voice  within 
him;  there  sits  a  divinity  enthroned  in  ever}^  man's 
soul,  whose  voice  is  the  clear,  articulate,  and  solemn 
echo  of  this  judgment,  "All  have  sinned,  and  come 
short  of  the  glory  of  God." 

This  evil  is  incurable. 

Ilear  the  Word  of  the  Lord :  "  Though  thou  wash 
thee  with  nitre,  and  take  thee  much  soap,  yet  thine 
iniquity  is  marked  before  me,  saith  the  Lord."  Again, 
*'  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard 
his  spots  ?  Then  may  ye  that  have  been  accustomed 
to  do  evil  learn  to  do  well."  Again,  "Why  should 
ye  be  stricken  any  more,  ye  will  revolt  more  and 
more  ?"  Of  these  solemn  and  humbling  truths  I  know 
no  more  remarkable  illustration  than  that  before  us. 
What  effect  had  God's  judgments  on  his  ancient  peo- 
ple ?  Some  children  owe  their  ruin  to  excessive  in- 
dulgence; others  are  the  victims  of  an  extreme  sever- 
ity, which  drives  them  first  to  falsehood,  and  then 
•irom  that  on  to  other  crimes.  Thus  mismanagement 
.Diay  be  laid  at  our  door ;  but  who  will  impute  error 
lo  God,  or  challenge  the  wisdom  of  his  ways  ?  Now, 
when  the  scourge  was  in  the  hands  of  a  God  all  wise, 
what  effect  had  it  on  his  people  ?  Were  they  cured 
by  their  affections,  trials,  and  years  of  suffering?   Did 


i 


36  THE   GOSPEL    IN    KZKKIEL. 

these  arrest  the  malady  ?  Had  they  even  the  efTect 
of  preventing  their  sinking  deeper  into  sin  ?  By  no 
means.  As  always  happens  in  incurable  diseases,  the 
patient  grew  worse  instead  of  better.  "  Seducers  wax 
worse  and  worse."  As  always  happens  when  life  id 
gone,  the  dead  grew  more  and  more  offensive.  Tho 
more  it  shines,  and  the  more  it  rains,  the  thicker  tho 
dews  of  night,  and  the  hotter  the  sun  of  day,  the  fast- 
er the  dead  tree  rots  ;  for  those  agents  in  nature  which 
promote  the  vegetation  and  develop  the  beauty  of 
life,  the  sounding  shower,  the  silent  dews,  the  sum- 
mer heat,  have  no  other  effect  on  death  than  to 
hasten  its  putridity  and  decay.  And  even  so,  furnish- 
ing us  with  an  impressive  lesson  of  the  impotency  of 
all  means  that  are  unaccompanied  by  the  divine  bless- 
ing— was  it  with  God's  ancient  people.  He  sent  them 
servants,  and  he  sent  them  sufferings;  but,  until  the 
Spirit  of  life  descended  from  on  high,  their  habits  only 
grew  more  depraved,  their  condition  more  desperate, 
their  profanity  more  profane ;  they  but  laid  them- 
selves more  and  more  open  to  the  charge — "The  last 
state  of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first."  Wherever 
on  weary  feet  they  wandered,  they  dishonored  reli- 
gion, disgraced  the  faith  ;  and,  instead  of  extorting 
the  respect  of  their  oppressors,  they  exposed  both 
themselves  and  their  God  to  contempt. 

The  heathen  sneered  and  said,  "  These  are  the  peo- 
ple of  the  Lord  I"  and,  what  is  less  common,  theso 
down-trodden  exiles,  these  debased  and  degraded  sin 
ners,  seem  themselves  to  have  felt  the  desperate  char- 
acter of  their  case  ;  they  said,  "  Our  bones  are  dried, 
and  our  hope  is  lost." 

Now,  as  we  may  learn  from  the  case  of  the  Jews, 
the  case  of  every  sinner,  apart  from  divine  assistance. 


THE  DEFILER.  87 

is  a  desperate  one.  This  internal  and  universal  de- 
filement is  one  which  neither  sorrows  nor  sufferings 
can  remove.  God,  in  a  passage  which  we  have  already 
quoted,  says,  "  Though  thou  wash  thee  Tith  nitre, 
and  take  thee  much  soap,  yet  thine  iniquity  is  marked 
before  me  ;"  sorrows  have  no  more  virtue  than  soap, 
tears  than  nitre  liere.  Trust  not,  tlierefore,  in  any 
merely  unsanctified  nfflictions,  as  if  these  could  per- 
manently and  really  change  the  true  character  of  the 
heart.  I  have  seen  the  characters  of  the  writing  re- 
main on  paper  that  the  flames  had  turned  into  a  film 
of  buoyant  coal ;  I  have  seen  the  thread  that  had 
been  passed  through  the  fire,  retain,  in  its  cold  gray 
ashes,  the  twist  which  it  had  got  in  spinning ;  I  have 
found  every  shivered  splinter  of  the  flint  as  hard  as 
the  unbroken  stone:  and,  let  trials  come,  in  provi- 
dence, sharp  as  the  fire  and  ponderous  as  the  crushing 
hammer,  unless  God  send  with  these  something  else 
than  these,  bruised,  broken,  bleeding  as  the  heart  may 
be,  it  remains  the  same.  You  may  weep  for  your 
sins  ;  and,  since  all  of  us  have  need  to  seek  a  more  ten- 
der conscience,  and  that  this  too  cold  and  callous  heart 
were  warmed  and  softened,  sorry  should  I  be  to  stop 
your  weeping.  Should  a  mote  of  dust  get  into  the 
natural  eye,  the  irritation  induced  will  weep  out  the 
evil ;  and  so,  in  a  way,  with  sin  in  a  tender  and  holy 
conscience.  But  tears — an  ocean  of  tears — wash  not 
out  the  guilt  of  sin.  All  tears  are  lost  that  fall  not  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus.  Bat  even  the  tears  which  bathe  a 
Saviour's  feet  wash  not  away  our  sins.  When  falling 
— flowing  fastest,  we  are  to  remember  that  it  is  not  the 
tears  we  shed,  but  the  blood  he  shed,  which  is  the 
price  of  pardon  ;  and  that  guilty  souls  are  nowhere  to 
be  cleansed  but  in  that  bath  of  blood  where  the  foul- 


SS  THE    GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

est  are  free  to  wasli  and  certain  to  be  cleansed.  From 
its  crimson  margin  a  Magdalene  and  a  Manasseh  have 
gone  up  to  glory  ;  and  since  their  times,  succeeding 
ages  have  been  daily  and  more  fnlly  proving,  that 
grace  is  still  free,  salvation  still  full,  and  that  still  tho 
blood  of  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin. 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 
Drawn  from  Emmanuel's  veins, 
And  sinners  plunged  beneath  that  flood. 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains." 


^mt  Sinning. 


Wlien  th^  house  of  Israel  dwelt  in  their  own  land,  ihey  defiled  it  bj 
their  own  way,  and  by  their  doings. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  17. 

*'I  HAVE  dreamed  a  dream,"  said  Joseph,  "and  be- 
hold the  sun,  moon,  and  eleven  stars  made  obeisance 
to  me."  Our  earth  was  once  supposed  to  occupy  a 
place  of  no  less  honor  in  creation.  Turning  daily  on 
its  axis,  and  performing  also  an  annual  revolution 
round  the  sun,  our  globe  is  in  incessant  motion ;  but 
it  was  once  believed  that  its  state  was  one  of  perfect 
rest,  and  that,  like  the  small  pivot  on  which  some 
great  wheel  revolves,  it  formed  a  center,  around  which 
went  rolling  the  whole  machinery  of  heaven,  those 
suns  and  planets,  both  fixed  and  wandering  stars. 
This  dream  of  science  met  a  happier  fi\te  than  Joseph's; 
believed  in  the  credulous  ages  of  the  world's  child- 
hood, it  was  obstinately  clung  to  as  an  article  of  faith 
down  to  no  very  distant  period.  It  is  not  so  very 
long  ago  since  the  telescope  of  Galileo  demonstrated 
that  our  earth,  whatever  the  Pope  might  say,  is  a  sat- 
ellite of  the  sun,  and  but  one  of  many  orbs  that  roll 
around  him ;  and  he  but  one  of  many  suns,  which, 
taking  millions  of  years  to  complete  their  circle,  re- 
volve about  some  greater  center.  At  some  period 
preceding  the  philosopher's  discovery,  the  throne  of 
Spain  is  said  to  have  been  occupied  by  a  man  who 
was  acute  enough  to  perceive,  that  if  all  these  vasj 
s^^stems,  suns,  planets,  and  comets,  vrere  daily  turning 


40  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

round  tins  earlb,  then,  in  making  the  greater  subser 
vient  to  the  less,  the  Creator  of  the  universe  had  con- 
structed a  very  clumsy  and  cumbersome  piece  of 
mechanism.  History  has  preserved  the  profane  lan- 
guage of  his  dissent  from  the  science  of  his  own  day. 
It  was  something  to  the  effect,  that  if  God  had  con- 
sulted him  when  he  made  the  worlds,  they  would 
have  been  better  designed.  Far  be  it  from  us,  under 
any  perplexity  felt  in  contemplating  the  mysteries 
either  of  creation  or  providence,  to  question  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  to  cherish  a  thought  so  daring,  or  utter 
an  expression  so  profane.  In  his  dealings  with  us,  his 
way  may  be  in  the  sea,  and  his  path  in  the  mighty 
waters,  and  his  footsteps  not  known  ;  "  by  terrible 
things  in  righteousness,"  he  may  answer  us ;  let  him 
dash  the  cup  from  our  hand,  or  fill  it  brimful  of 
"wine  of  astonishment,"  we  shall  never  deem  it  right 
to  think  that  God  has  done  wrong.  Whatever  ap- 
pearance of  error  his  ways  or  works  may  present,  be 
assured  that  the  defect  is  not  in  the  object,  but  in  the 
spectator,  in  the  eye  that  sees,  not  in  the  thing  that  is 
seen ;  not  in  the  plans  of  infinite  wisdom,  but  in  the 
finite  and  fallible  mind,  which  has  the  folly  to  con- 
demn what  it  has  not  the  understanding  to  compre- 
hend. "  Manifold  are  thy  works.  Lord  God  Almighty  ; 
in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all." 

Such  is  the  judgment  of  the  Psalmist;  and  from 
this  no  work  of  God's  so  strongly  tempts  us  to  dissent 
as  the  condition  and  character  of  man  himself;  and  I 
know  no  way  of  so  well  meeting  this  temptation  as  by 
receiving  into  our  creed  the  doctrine  of  the  Fall.  If 
with  some  we  reject  this  doctrine. — if  we  hold  that  the 
children  are  not  in  any  sense  implicated  in  their  pa- 
rents' sin — then,  in  the  providence  of  God,  and  ic  the 


MAN   SINNING  41 

goverLment  of  the  world,  there  appears  to  be  nothing 
— I  shall  not  say  so  deficient  in  wisdom,  but  so  ob- 
scure, inscrutable,  painfully  and  fearfully  mysterious, 
as  the  position,  condition,  and  character  of  man;  for, 
on  the  supposition  that  man  has  never  fallen, — that 
the  vessel  is  as  pure  and  perfect  as  when  it  passed 
from  the  potter's  hand — these  questions  are  ever 
rising,  and,  dismiss  them  as  we  may,  are  ever  return- 
ing,— how  could  a  good  God  make  such  a  wicked 
creature  ?  How  could  a  kind  God  make  such  an  un- 
happy creature?  How  could  a  wise  God  make  such 
a  foolish  creature?  How  could  a  holy  God  make 
such  a  sinful  creature?  If  it  is  impossible  for  a  pure 
stream  to  be  born  of  a  polluted  fountain,  is  it  not  as 
impossible  to  believe  that  a  crystal  fountain  can  be 
the  parent  of  a  polluted  stream?  If  a  clean  thing 
cannot  come  out  of  an  unclean,  is  not  the  conclusion 
as  fair,  as  logical,  as  inevitable,  that  an  unclean  thing 
cannot  come  out  of  a  clean? 

Now  let  us  shut  the  Bible — exclude  every  ray  of 
inspired  and  celestial  light;  we  stand  in  darkness; 
and  yet  it  seems  to  me  like  the  dead  substance,  the 
decaying  wood,  the  putrid  animal  matter  which  grows 
luminous  through  its  decay,  and  emits  in  death  a 
phosphorescent  light:  by  the  help  of  man's  very  cor- 
ruption we  have  light  enough  to  see  his  fallen,  dead, 
degraded  state.  Indeed,  I  would  a  thousand  times 
sooner  believe,  that  man  made  himself  what  he  is,  than 
that  God  made  him  so  ;  for  in  the  one  case  I  should 
think  ill  of  man  only ;  in  the  other  I  am  tempted  to 
blame  his  Maker.  Just  think,  I  pray  you,  to  what 
conclusion  our  reason  would  conduct  us  in  any  anal- 
ogous case.  You  see,  for  example,  a  beautiful  capital 
still  bearing  some  of  the  flowers  and  foliage  which  the 


42  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

chisel  of  a  master  Lad  carved  upon  the  marble.  It 
lies  prostrate  on  the  ground,  half-buried  among  weeds 
and  nettles ;  while  beside  it  the  rerises  from  its  ped- 
estal the  headless  shaft  of  a  noble  pillar.  Would  you 
not  conclude  at  once  that  its  present  position,  so  base, 
mean,  and  prostrate,  was  not  its  original  position  ? 
You  would  say  the  lightning  must  have  struck  it 
down  ;  or  an  earthquake  have  shaken  it,  or  some  ig- 
norant barbarian  had  climbed  the  shaft,  and  with  rude 
hand  had  hurled  it  to  the  ground.  Well,  we  look  at 
man,  and  come  to  a  similar  conclusion.  There  is 
something,  there  is  much  that  is  wrong,  both  in  his 
state  and  condition.  His  mind  is  carnal,  and  at  en- 
mity with  God ;  the  "imaginations  of  his  heart  are 
only  evil  continually,"  so  says  the  Bible.  His  body 
is  the  seat  of  disease;  his  eyes  are  often  swimming  in 
tears;  care,  anticipating  age,  has  drawn  deep  furrows 
on  his  brow ;  he  possesses  noble  faculties,  but,  like 
people  of  high  descent,  who  have  sunk  into  a  low 
estate  and  become  menials,  they  drudge  in  the  service 
of  the  meanest  passions.  He  has  an  immortal  soul, 
but  it  is  clogged  by  the  infirmities,  and  imprisoned 
within  the  walls  of  a  "  body  of  death."  His  life  is 
vanity ;  he  is  ever  seeking  happiness,  but  like  the 
child  who  pursues  the  horizon,  chases  the  rainbow,  or 
climbs  the  hills  to  catch  the  silvery  moon,  he  never 
finds  the  object  of  his  search.  In  some  respects, — • 
manifestly  made  for  a  sphere  higher  than  he  fills,— 
he  appears  to  us  like  a  creature  of  the  air  Avhich  some 
cruel  hand  has  stripped  of  its  silken  wings.  How  like 
he  looks  to  this  hajjless  object  which  has  just  fallen 
on  the  pages  of  a  book  that  we  read  by  the  candle  on 
an  autumm  evening!  it  retains  the  wish,  but  has  lost 
the  power  to  fly;  allured  by  the  taper's  glare,  it  haf 


MAN  SINNING.  43 

brushed  the  flame,  burned  its  wings,  and,  dropping 
with  a  heavy  fall,  it  now  crawls  wingless  across  the 
page,  and  seeks  the  finger  of  mercy  to  end  its  niiscry. 
Compare  man  with  any  of  the  other  creatures  of  God, 
and  how  directly  we  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
is  not  the  creature  he  came  from  his  Maker's  hands  1 

Who  has  not  had  this  borne  in  upon  his  mind 
when  his  feet  carried  him  forth  into  the  fields  of  na- 
ture? I  pass  out  among  our  sylvan  scenes;  and  here, 
on  the  spray  of  the  tasseled  broom,  there  sits  and 
sings  a  little  bird  ;  it  fills  the  glen  with  melody  ;  from 
his  throat  and  throbbing  breast  he  rings  out  the 
sweetest  music,  as  with  keen  bright  eye  he  now  looks 
up  to  God  and  now  down  on  the  bush  where  his  mate 
sits  with  wings  extended  over  their  unfeathered  nest- 
lings ;  with  songs  he  cheers  her  maternal  cares,  and  is 
then  away  on  busy  wing  to  cater  for  mother  and  her 
young.  Kext,  I  turn  my  steps  to  the  open  moor ;  and  so 
soon  as  the  intruder  appears  on  her  lonely  domain,  the 
lapwing  comes  down  upon  the  wind;  brave  and  ven- 
turesome she  sweeps  us  with  her  wing,  and  shrieks  out 
her  distress  as  she  wheels  round  and  round  our  head ; 
her  brood  are  cowering  on  that  naked  waste  ;  nor  does 
she  rest  until  our  foot  is  off  the  ground,  and  even  then, 
when  the  coast  is  clear,  we  hear  her  long,  wild  screams, 
like  the  beating  of  a  mother's  heart  when  her  child  is 
saved;  like  the  mournful  dash  of  waves  upon  the 
shore  long  after  the  wind  is  down.  Next  I  climb  the 
mountain,  when  snow-drifts  thick  from  murky  hea- 
vens, and,  like  Satan,  taking  advantage  of  a  believer's 
trials,  the  wily  fox  is  out  upon  the  hunt;  every  mo- 
ther of  the  flock  lies  there  with  her  tender  lamb  be- 
hind her;  with  her  body  she  screens  it  from  the  rude- 
ness of  the  storm  •  and  with  her  head  to  the  wind, 


44  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

and  expanded  nostrils  snuffing  the  distant  danger,  she 
lies  ready,  the  moment  her  eye  catches  the  stealthy 
foe,  to  receive  him  on  her  feet,  and  die,  like  a  true 
mother,  in  her  lamb's  defence.  Such  are  God's  crea- 
tures. The  work  is  unmarred ;  the  workmanship 
what  it  came  from  the  Maker's  hand;  and  away 
among  these  old  hoary  hills,  remote  from  man,  his 
cities,  his  sins,  his  works,  his  sorrows,  we  are  out  of 
hearing  of  the  groans  of  creation ;  and,  but  for  the 
corruption  we  carry  with  and  within  us,  we  could  al- 
most forget  the  FalL  Stretched  on  a  flowery  bank, 
with  the  hum  of  bees,  the  song  of  birds,  and  the  chirp 
of  the  merry  grasshopper  in  our  ear,  heaven  serene 
above  us,  and  beneath  us  the  placid  lake,  where  every 
flower  and  bush  and  birch-tree  of  the  rock  looks  down 
into  the  mirror  of  its  own  beauty,  the  murmur  of  the 
waterfall  sounds  to  us,  like  an  echo  from  the  crags  of 
the  Creator's  voice,  "  All  is  very  good." 

But  let  us  retrace  our  steps  along  the  dusty  road 
from  the  broom  where  the  little  bird  sings,  and  the 
moor  where  the  lapwing  screams  her  maternal  fears, 
and  the  hill  where  the  timid  sheep  faces  the  fox  to 
die  for  her  offspring ;  or  the  forest,  where  the  bear 
with  her  cubs  behind  her,  offers  her  shaggy  bosom  to 
the  spear.  Enter  this  town.  Look  at  this  mother,  as 
we  saw  her  when  Sabbath  bells  rung  worshipers  to 
prayer,  and  God  was  calling  sinners  to  the  throne  ci 
mercy.  Her  back  is  against  the  church's  wall;  she 
has  sunk  on  the  cold  pavement ;  her  senses  are  steeped 
in  drink,  and  on  her  lap, — pitiful  sight !  lies  an  ema- 
ciated, half-naked  infant,  with  the  chill,  cold  rain 
soaking  its  scanty  rags,  and  lashing  its  pallid  face. 
Is  this  God's  handiwork?  Is  this  the  clay  as  it  came 
from   the   poHer's  wheel?     Was   this  the   shape  in 


MAN   SINNING.  45 

which  woman  came  from  her  Maker's  hand?  When 
Adam  woke,  was  our  mother  Eve  such  as  this  her 
daughter  ?  If  so,  better  he  had  never  woke ;  it  hai 
been  good  for  him  to  be  alone.  Nature,  to  say 
nothing  of  religion,  revolts  from  the  thought. 

Now,  it  is  common  enough  to  call  such  spectacles 
brutal ;  language  which  is  a  libel  on  creation,  and  a 
blasphemy  against  the  Creator.  Such  scenes  are  not 
brutal.  My  very  argument  lies  in  this,  that  the  brute 
beasts  never  present  themselves  in  such  a  repulsive 
and  revolting  aspect.  Under  the  impulse  of  instincts 
necessary  for  their  well-being,  for  the  due  balance  or 
races,  and  the  general  welfare  of  the  world,  they  may, 
and  indeed  must  prey  upon  each  other ;  but  did  any 
man  ever  find  them  committing  self-destruction  ? 
Do  they  ever  pursue  such  suicidal  conduct  ?  Kange 
the  wide  fields  of  nature,  travel  from  the  equator  to 
the  poles,  rise  from  the  worm  that  crawls  on  earth  to 
the  eagle  that  cleaves  the  clouds,  and  where  shall  you 
find  any  thing  corresponding  to  our  scenes  of  dissipa- 
tion, or  the  bloody  fields  of  war?  Suppose,  that  on 
his  return  from  Africa,  some  Park,  or  Bruce,  or 
Campbell,  were  to  tell  how  he  had  seen  the  lions  of 
the  desert  leave  their  prey,  and,  meeting  face  to  face 
in  marshaled  bands,  amid  roars  that  drowned  the 
thunder,  engage  in  deadly  battle,  he  would  find  none 
so  credulous  as  to  believe  him ;  the  world  wxuld 
laugh  the  traveler  and  his  tale  to  scorn.  But  shculd 
a  thing  so  strange  and  monstrous  occur — should  v/e 
see  the  cattle,  while  the  air  shook  with  tlieir  bellow- 
ings,  and  the  ground  trembled  beneath  their  hoofs, 
rush  from  their  distant  pastures,  to  form  two  vast, 
black,  solid  columns;  and  should  these  herds,  with 
Leads   leveled  to  the  charge,  dash  forward    to  bury 


46  THE   GOSPEL    IN"   EZEKTEL. 

their  horns  in  each  other's  bodies,  we  would  proclaim 
a  prodigy,  and  ask  what  madness  had  seized  creation. 
Well,  is  not  sin  the  parent  of  more  awful  prodigies? 
Look  here — turn  to  the  horrors  of  this  battle-field. 
This  is  no  fancy,  but  a  fact — a  bloody,  sickening 
fact.  The  ground  lies  thick  with  the  mangled  brave ; 
the  a'r  is  shaken  with  the  most  horrible  sounds, 
every  countenance  expresses  the  passions  of  a  fiend. 
Humanity  flies  shrinking  from  the  scene,  and  leaves 
it  to  rage,  revenge,  and  agony.  Fiercer  than  the 
caniiOn's  flash  shoot  flames  of  wrath  from  brother's 
eyes ;  they  sheathe  their  swords  in  each  other's  bowels : 
every  stroke  makes  a  widow,  and  every  ringing  volley 
scatters  a  hundred  orphans  on  a  homeless  world.  I 
would  sooner  believe  that  there  was  no  God  at  all, 
than  that  man  appears  in  this  scene  as  he  came  from 
the  hand  of  a  benignant  Divinit3^  Man  must  have 
fallen  ;  nature,  society,  the  state  of  the  world,  are  so 
many  echoes  of  the  voice  of  Eevelation ;  they  pro- 
claim that  man  is  fallen — that  the  gold  has  become 
dim — that  the  much  fine  gold  has  perished;  and,  in 
words  to  which  we  again  turn  your  attention,  that  we 
have  defiled  the  land  in  which  we  dwell,  by  our  ways 
and  by  our  doings.  Now,  leaving  the  subject  of 
Original,  to  speak  of  Actual  Sin,  we  remark — 

I.  Apart  from  derived  sinfulness,  we  have  personal 
sins  to  answer  for. 

Dispose  of  the  doctrine  of  original  sin  as  you  please; 
suppose  that  you  could  disprove  it;  when  that  count 
of  the  indictment  is  canceled,  what  have  you  gained? 
Enough,  more  than  enough,  remains  to  convict  us  of 
guilt,  and  condemn  all  within  these  walls.  You  may 
deny  Original,  but  can  any  man  deny  Actual  Sin? 


MAN   SINNIXG.  47 

You  might  as  well  deny  your  existence ;  it  sticks  to 
you  like  your  shadow.  "  If  we  should  say  that  we 
have  no  sin,  we  make  God  a  liar,  and  the  truth  is  not 
in  us."  I  say  with  God,  "  Come,  let  us  reason  to- 
gether." Do  you  mean  to  affirm,  on  the  one  band, 
that  you  have  never  been  guilty  of  doing  what  you 
should  not  have  done?  or,  on  the  other,  never  guilty 
of  not  doing  what  you  should  have  done?  Lives 
there  a  man  so  happy  as  to  look  back  on  the  past  and 
feel  no  remorse,  or  forward  to  the  future  and  feel  no 
fear?  What  I  is  there  no  page  of  your  history  that 
you  would  obliterate — no  leaf  that,  with  God's  per- 
mission you  would  tear  from  the  book  ?  Is  there  no 
action,  nor  word,  nor  wnsh  of  days  gone  by,  that  you 
would  not,  if  you  could,  recall  ?  To  David's  prayer, 
"  Lord,  remember  not  the  sins  of  my  3-outh,  nor  my 
transgressions,"  have  you  no  solemn  and  hearty  Amen  ? 
If  you  could  be  carried  back  to  the  starting-pest,  and 
leant  again  against  the  cradle,  and  stood  again  at  your 
mother's  knee,  and  sat  again  at  the  old  school  desk, 
with  companions  that  are  now  changed,  or  scattered, 
or  dead  and  gone — were  you  to  begin  life  anew — 
would  you  run  the  self-same  course;  would  you  live 
over  the  self-same  life?  Whr.tl  is  there  no  speech 
that  you  would  unsay  ?  is  there  no  act  that  you  would 
undo?  no  Sabbath  that  you  would  spend  better? 
none  yet  alive,  none  mouldering  in  the  grave,  none 
now  in  heaven  or  hell,  to  whom  3'ou  would  bear 
yourself  otherwise  than  you  have  done  ?  Are  there 
none  among  the  dead  whose  memory  stings  3^ou,  and 
whose  everlasting  state  fills  you  with  anxiety  ?  Did 
you  never  share  in  sins  that  may  have  proved  their 
ruin?  and  never  fail  in  faithfulness  that  might  have 
saved  their  souls?     Oh  !  if  every  thread  of  our  web 


48  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

were  yet  to  weave,  what  man  would  make  the  future 
a  faithfu], — I  will  add,  fearful  copy  of  the  past  ?  I 
will  venture  to  say  that  no  man  living  would ;  and 
that  the  Apostle  has  universal  conscience  on  his  side, 
when  he  says,  "  If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we 
deceive  ourselves."  Our  sins  are  more  in  number 
than  the  hairs  upon  our  head ;  and  I  know  no  lan- 
guage nor  attitude  so  becoming  us  as  those  of  Ezra, 
when,  rending  his  mantle,  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and 
cried,  "  Oh,  my  God,  I  am  ashamed,  and  blush  to  lift 
up  my  face  to  thee ;  for  our  iniquities  are  increased 
over  our  heads,  and  our  trespass  is  gone  up  into  the 
heavens." 

11.  The  guilt  of  these  actual  sins  is  our  own. 

"  Ilast  thou  eaten  of  the  tree  ?"  God  puts  the  ques- 
tion, and  man  replies,  "  The  woman  whom  thou  gavest 
to  be  with  me,  she  gave  me  of  the  tree,  and  I  did 
eat."  Adam  points  an  accusing  finger  at  Eve,  and 
turning  round  to  the  woman,  God  says,  "  What  is  this 
that  thou  hast  done?"  She  in  turn  lays  the  blame  on 
the  serpent,  saying,  "The  serpent  beguiled  me,  and  I 
did  eat."  And  thus  and  thus  they  shift  the  sin.  We 
have  "eaten  of  the  tree;"  and, — unless  it  be  to  roll 
the  guilt  on  Christ, — we  attempt  in  vain  to  screen  our- 
selves behind  another's  back — to  lay  the  burden  on 
any  shoulders  but  our  own. 

There  are  strong  pleas  which  the  poor  heathen  may 
advance  in  extenuation  of  their  guilt;  and,  stepping 
forward  with  some  confidence  to  judgment, — may  urge 
upon  a  just  and  merciful  as  well  as  holy  God. 

They  may  say,  we  knew  no  better;  no  man  cared 
for  our  souls.  Great  God !  when  thy  followers  landed 
on  our  happy  shores,  they  brought  no  olive  brancli  or 


MAN  SINNING.  49 

Bible,  but  fire,  and  sword,  and  slavery ;  and  on  the 
back  of  those  who,  bearing  thy  name,  oppressed  us 
robbed  us,  enslaved  us,  and  left  us  to  die  ignorant  oi 
tliy  love,  we  lay  our  guilt.  Let  them  answer  for  us ; 
place  these  Christiaii3  at  thy  bar ;  ask  them  ''  where  is 
thy  brother  Abel  ?"  and  on  their  heads,  not  on  ours, 
let  thy  dread  justice  fall.  This  wretched,  ragged  child, 
the  victim  of  cruelty  and  neglect,  who  leaves  hunger 
and  a  bed  of  straw  to  stand  at  the  bar  of  God,  may 
lift  up  his  head  at  that  august  tribunal,  und  stand  on 
his  defence  with  more  certainty  both  ^f  justice  and 
pity  than  he  has  ever  met  here  below.  In  cold  and 
nakedness,  in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  rags  and  ignorance, 
he  was  left  to  wander  our  hard  streets,  and,  among  all 
the  Christians  of  this  city,  there  was  not  one  kind 
ti.>nd  to  guide  his  naked  feet  to  Sabbath  church  or  in- 
fant school.  Poor  wretch  !  the  house  of  God  was  not 
for  him ;  and  now  that  he  addresses  one  who  will  not 
refuse  to  hear  him — child  of  misfortune! — now  may 
he  say,  Merciful  Lord !  my  mother  taught  me  to  steal^ 
my  father  taught  me  to  swear.  ITow  could  I  obey  a 
Bible  which  I  never  learned  to  read?  How  could  i 
believe  in  thee,  whom  no  one  taught  me  to  know? 
Saviour  of  sinners  !  condemn  me  not ;  how  was  I  to 
avoid  sins  against  which  I  was  never  warned?  I  did 
not  know  what  I  did.  Seizing  thy  cross,  I  claim  the 
benefit  of  its  dying  prayer,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do." 

What  value  may  be  given  to  these  pleas — what 
weight  they  may  carry  at  a  tribunal  where  much  will 
be  exacted  of  those  who  have  got  much,  and  little 
asked  where  little  has  been  given — it  is  not  for  us  to 
say.  The  Judge  of  all  the  earth  will  do  right.  But 
this  we  know,  that  we  have  no  such  excuse  to  plead 

a 


60  THE    GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

no  sucli  plea  to  urge  in  extenuation  of  one  of  a  thou- 
sand of  our  offences.  Some,  indeed,  plead  their  natu- 
ral proneness  to  sin  ;  thej  excuse  themselves  to  con- 
science on  that  ground,  or  on  this,  that  the  temptation 
before  which  they  fell,  fell  on  them  with  the  sudden- 
ness and  vehemence  of  a  hurricane.  The  command, 
however,  to  watch  and  pray  leaves  j^ou  without  ex- 
cuse. You  were  fully  warned,  and  should  have  been 
on  the  outlook  for  the  white  squall.  The  sentinel  is 
righteously  shot  who  allows  himself  to  sleep  upon  his 
post.  Supposing,  however,  that  the  plea  were  accepted ; 
I  repeat,  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  remains  to 
condemn  us,  and  leaves  guilt  no  refuge  out  of  Christ. 
We  talk  of  the  strength  and  suddenness  of  temptation ; 
but  how  often  have  we  sinned  designedly,  deliberately, 
repeatedly?  "We  talk  of  our  bias  to  sin;  but  who 
has  not  committed  sins  that  he  could  have  avoided — 
sins  which  he  could  have  abstained  from,  and  sins 
which  he  did  abstain  from,  when  it  served  some  present 
purpose  to  do  so?  This  reeling  sot  and  slave  of 
drunkenness  keeps  sober  at  a  communion  season ;  and 
the  swearer,  who  alleges  that  he  cannot  refrain  from 
oaths,  puts  a  bridle  on  his  tongue  in  the  presence  of 
his  minister.  It  is  useless  for  the  sinner  to  say  that 
he  is  swept  away  by  temptation  ;  "  he  conceiveth  mis- 
chief, and  he  bringeth  forth  falsehood ;"  and  if  swept 
away,  it  is  as  the  suicide,  who  seeks  the  river,  stands 
on  its  brink,  and,  leaping  in,  is  swept  off  to  his  watery 
grave.  I  know  that  Satan  goes  about  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour;  but,  while  he  tempts  zis,  how  often 
have  we  tempted  him?  Stealing  on  unawares,  and, 
like  a  lion  crouching  to  the  leap,  with  sudden  and  un- 
looked  for  spring  he  may  cast  himself  upon  us ;  but 
how  often  have  we  cast  ourselves  in  his  way  ?     Wo 


MAN  SINNING.  61 

have  gone  down  to  Delilah,  we  Lave  stood  in  the  way 
of  sinners,  we  have  sinned  when  we  knew  that  we 
were  sinning ;  we  have  gone  where  we  knew  that  we 
w^ere  to  sin  ;  and,  in  pursuit  of  its  guilty  ])leasures — 
trampling  conscience  beneath  our  feet,  and  more  than 
that,  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ — we  have 
done  what  the  heathen  never  did,  what  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  never  did,  what  Tyre  and  Sidon  never  did 
— we  have  rejected  a  Saviour,  and  madly  refused 
eternal  life.  There  is  hope  for  us  in  the  blood  of  his 
cross,  but  none  in  its  prayer.  We  knew  what  we  did. 
Some  years  ago,  on  a  great  public  occasion,  a  dis- 
tinguished statesman  rose  up  in  the  presence  of  assem- 
bled thousands,  and,  in  reply  to  certain  calumnious 
and  dishonorable  charges,  raised  his  hands  in  the  vast 
assembly,  exclaiming,  "These  hands  are  clean."  Now, 
if  you  or  I,  or  any  of  our  fallen  race  did  entertain  a 
hope  that  we  could  act  over  this  scene  before  God  in 
judgment,  I  could  comprehend  the  calm  and  unim- 
passioned  indifference  with  which  men  sit  in  church 
on  successive  Sabbaths,  eye  the  cross  of  Calvary,  and 
listen  to  the  overtures  of  mercy.  Are  these  matters 
with  which  you  have  nothing  to  do  ?  If,  indeed,  you 
have  no  sins  to  answer  for — if  before  this  world's 
great  assize  you  are  prepared  not  only  to  plead,  but 
to  prove  your  innocence — if  conscience  accuses  you  in 
nothing,  and  excuses  you  in  every  thing — then  sleep 
on,  in  God's  name  sleep  on,  and  take  your  rest.  But 
when  the  heavens  over  men  are  clothed  in  thunders, 
and  hell  yawns  beneath  their  feet,  and  both  God's  law 
and  their  own  conscience  condemn  them,  such  indif- 
ference is  madness !  Beware !  play  with  no  fire ; 
least  of  all,  wdth  fire  unquenchable.  Play  w^ith  no 
edged  sword ;  least  of  all,  with  that  which  Justice 


62  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

sheathed  in  a  Saviour's  bosom.  Delay  by  the  mouth 
of  no  pit ;  least  of  all,  on  the  brink  of  a  bottomless 
one,  the  smoke  of  whose  torment  goeth  up  for  ever 
and  ever.  Think  of  these  things.  Incalculable  issues 
are  at  stake  ;  your  everlasting  destiny  may  turn  upon 
this  hour. 

Do  you  feel  under  condemnation  ?  Are  3^ou  really 
anxious  to  be  saved  ?  Be  not  turned  from  your  pur- 
pose by  the  jeers  and  taunts  of  the  ungodly.  It  is  a 
very  common  thing  with  scoffers,  and  with  those  who 
use  their  religion  as  a  cloak  always  w^orn  loosely,  nor 
ever  drawn  closely  round,  save,  so  to  speak,  in  in- 
clement weather,  when  distress  troubles,  or  death 
alarms  them ;  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  eye  all  men 
of  zealous  duty  with  cold  suspicion,  and  represent 
them  as  (iither  rogues  or  fools,  fanatics  or  hypocrites. 
In  answer  to  the  charge  of  weakness  or  folly,  I  think 
I  could  produce  an  array  of  brilliant  and  immortal 
names — names  of  men  in  whom  duty  has  been  asso- 
ciated with  the  highest  intellect,  the  loftiest  genius, 
the  most  profound  and  statesman-like  sagacity — men 
besides  whom  most  of  your  scoffers,  skeptics,  and 
worldlings  were  as  dwarfs  in  the  company  of  giants. 
Folly !  if  Christians  really  such  are  chargeable  with 
any  folly,  it  is  with  that  of  not  being  zealous  enough 
— with  that  of  being,  not  too  much,  but  too  little  re- 
ligious. In  the  name  both  of  common  sense  and 
religion,  I  ask,  is  it  possible,  if  there  be  a  hell,  to  be 
too  anxious  to  escape  it  ?  If  men  are  perishing,  how 
ean  I,  with  my  children,  brothers,  sisters,  friends  in 
the  burning,  be  too  anxious  to  save  them  ?  The  man 
who  rises  at  mirk  midnight  to  quench  the  flames  in  a 
neighbor's  house,  is  no  fool  surely ;  but  he  who  can 
coolly  eat  his  meals  besid)  the  sea  or  go  singing  about 


MAN  SINNING.  53 

his  common  avocations  along  the  shore,  when  the 
wreck  is  in  his  eye,  and  the  roar  of  the  surf  and  the 
shrieks  of  the  drowning  are  in  his  ear,  he  is  a  fool,  or 
something  worse. 

As  to  the  insinuation  of  general  hypocrisy,  tho 
wretched  charge  got  up  against  all  religion,  when  some 
specious  professor  stands  unmasked  before  the  world, 
how  absiard  it  is !  Is  there  no  grain  in  our  barn-yards, 
because  there  is  so  much  chaff?  Are  all  patriots — • 
Wallace  and  the  Bruce,  Tell,  Eussel,  and  Washington 
— deceivers  and  liars,  because  some  men  have  villain- 
ously betrayed  their  country  ?  Is  there  no  honor  in 
the  British  army,  because  some  soldiers,  the  sweep- 
ings probably  of  our  city  streets,  have  left  the  lines, 
and  leaped  the  trenches,  and  deserted  to  the  enemy  ? 
Is  there  no  integrity  among  British  merchants,  because 
now  and  then  we  hear  of  a  fraudulent  bankruptcy  ? 
Because  some  religious  professors  prove  hypocrites,  is 
therefore  all  ardent  piety  hollow  hypocrisy  ?  To 
reason  so,  argues  either  a  disordered  intellect  or  a 
very  depraved  heart — is  a  conclusion,  indeed,  as  con- 
trary to  logic  as  to  love.  When  were  hypocrites  ever 
known  to  suffer  for  their  principles  ?  Yet  is  there  a 
country  in  Christendom  that  has  not  been  strewed 
thick  with  the  ashes  and  dyed  red  with  the  blood  of 
martyrs  ?  Have  not  their  heads  in  ghastly  rows  stood 
on  our  city  gates  ?  Two  hundred  years  ago,  and  the 
windows  of  the  very  houses  still  standing  round  this 
church  were  crowded  with  eager  faces,  taking  their 
last  look  of  men  who  went  with  firm  step  and  lofty 
♦•.arriage  to  die  for  principle — loving  Christ  more  than 
their  lives,  and  ready,  as  one  said  before  they  threw 
him  nff — had  they  as  many  lives  as  they  had  hairs  on 
their  head,  to  lay  them  all  down  for  Christ.     Religion 


54  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

is  an  "honest  thing,  and  true  wisdom.  God  working 
in  yon,  work  out  therefore  your  salvation.  The  way 
to  the  refuge  lies  open  ;  with  the  feet  of  an  Azahel 
haste  to  Jesus.  Once  in  him,  you  can  turn  on  the 
avenger,  saying,  I  fear  thee  not ;  here  thou  comest, 
but  no  farther ;  this  blood-red  line  thou  canst  not 
pass, — "  There  is  no  condemnation  for  tliem  who  are 
in  Christ  Jesus." 

Do  you  see  that  sin  stains  your  holiest  services,  de- 
filing head,  heart,  hands,  feet — the  whole  man?  Haste 
to  the  fountain  where  sins  are  lost  and  souls  are 
cleansed.  With  its  base  ingratitude  to  your  heavenly 
Father — with  the  wounds  it  has  inflicted  on  a  most 
loving  Saviour — with  the  grief  it  has  caused,  and  the 
resistance  it  has  made,  to  a  most  gentle  and  Holy 
Spirit — with  the  deep  injuries  it  has  done  to  your  own 
soul,  and  souls  which,  loving,  you  should  have  sought 
to  save — Oh,  let  sin  be  your  deepest  sorrow,  your 
heaviest  grief,  the  spring  of  many  tears,  the  burden 
of  many  sighs,  the  occasion  of  daily  visits  to  the  crass 
of  Calvary. 

'  "Weep  not  for  broad  lands  lost ; 
Weep  not  for  fair  hopes  ci'ossed  ; 
"Weep  not  when  limbs  wax  old  ; 
Weep  not  when  friends  grow  cold ; 
Weep  not,  that  death  must  part 
Thine  and  the  best-loved  heart ; 
Yet  weep— weep  all  thou  can- 
Weep,  weep,  because  thou  art 
A  sin-ufulcu  iiiou.'* 


lilt   ^uffi:ring. 


therefore  I  poured  my  fury  upon  them,  and  I  scattered  them  among 
the  heathen,  and  they  -were  dispersed  through  the  countries.  Ac- 
cording to  their  way  and  according  to  their  doings,  I  judged  them. 
EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  18,  19. 

It  appears  a  very  easy  thing  to  say  what  a  plant  or 
animal  is.  It  is  not  so.  There  are  myriads  of  living- 
creatures  that  occupy  the  debatable  ground  between 
the  vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms,  and  naturalists 
have  not  yet  determined  on  which  side  of  the  border 
to  assign  them  a  place — whether  to  rank  them  among 
plants  or  animals.  What  is  man?  You  would  think 
it  an  easy  thing  to  answer  that  question  ;  yet  I  am  not 
sure  that,  even  at  this  day,  we  have  any  correct  de- 
finition wliich — distinguishing  him  on  the  one  hand 
from  the  angelic  race  and  on  the  other  hand  from  the 
higher  orders  of  inferior  creatures, — is  at  once  brief 
and  comprehensive.  Now,  if  we  have  such  difficulty 
in  defining  even  ourselves,  or  those  objects  that,  being 
patent  to  the  senses,  may  be  made  the  subject  of 
searching  and  prolonged,  experiment,  we  need  not 
wonder  that,  when  we  rise  above  his  works  to  their 
Maker,  from  things  finite  to  things  infinite,  it  should 
be  found  much  easier  to  ask  than  answer  the  question 
"  What  is  God  ?"  The  telescope  by  which  we  con- 
verse with  the  stars,  the  microscope  which  un vails  the 
secrets  of  nature,  the  crucible  of  the  chemist,  the  knife 
of  the   anatomist,  the  reflective   faculties  of  the   >jhi- 


56  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

iosopher,  all  the  common  instruments  of  science  avail 
not  here.  On  the  threshold  of  that  impenetrable 
mystery,  from  out  the  clouds  and  darkness  that  are 
round  about  God's  throne,  a  voice  arrests  our  steps ; 
and  the  question  comes,  "  Who  can  by  searching  find 
out  God,  who  can  find  out  the  Almighty  to  per- 
fection ?" 

Divines,  notwithstanding,  have  ventured  on  a  de- 
finition of  God ;  and,  according  to  the  Catechism  of 
the  Westminister  Assembly,  "God  is  a  spirit,  infinite, 
eternal,  and  unchangeable,  in  his  being,  wisdom, power 
hohness,  justice,  goodness,  and  truth."  A  very  com- 
prehensive definition,  no  doubt;  yet  did  it  never  strike 
you  as  strange,  that  there  is  no  mention  of  love 
here,  and  that  that  is  a  very  remarkable  omission  ?— 
an  omission  as  remarkable  as  if  a  man  who  described 
the  firmament  were  to  leave  out  the  sun,  or,  painting 
the  human  fiice,  made  it  sightless,  and  gave  no  place 
on  the  canvas  to  those  beaming  eyes  which  give  life 
and  animation  to  the  features. 

Why  did  an  assembl}',  for  piety,  learning,  and 
talents,  the  greatest,  perhaps,  that  ever  met  in 
England,  or  any  where  else,  give  us  that  catalogue  of 
the  divine  attributes,  and  deny  a  place  among  them 
to  love  ?  We  think  the  omission  may  be  thus  ex- 
plained and  illustrated.  Take  a  globe,  and  observ- 
ing their  natural  order,  lay  on  its  surface  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow ;  gave  it  a  rapid  motion  round  its  axis ; 
and  now  you  no  longer  see  blue,  red,  yellow,  and  the 
others.  As  if  by  magic,  the  whirling  sphere  changes 
into  purest  white,  presenting  to  our  eyes  and  under- 
standing a  visible  proof  that  the  sunbeam  is  not  a 
simple,  but  compound  body,  woven  of  various  rays, 
and  forming,   when  blended  into  one,  what  we  call 


MAN  SUFFERING.  57 

Jight.  Ko^v,  may  it  not  be,  that  these  divines  make  no 
mention  of  love  (otherwise  an  unaccountable  omission) 
just  because  they  held  that  as  all  the  colors  together 
make  light,  so  all  the  attributes  acting  together  make 
love  ;  and  that  thus,  because  God  is  justice,  is  wisdom, 
is  power,  is  holiness,  is  goodness,  and  is  truth,  God 
therefore  of  necessit}^,  and  in  the  express  words  of 
John,  "  God  is  love."  This  is  the  briefest  and  best 
definition  of  Divinity,  and  would  have  been  John's 
answer  to  the  question,  "  "What  is  God  ?" 

It  may  be  said,  and  is  no  doubt  true,  that  objects 
take  a  color  from  the  eyes  that  look  at  them;  all 
things— sun,  and  sea,  and  mountains,  look  yellow  to 
the  jaundiced  eye ;  all  things  look  gloomy  to  a 
gloomy  mind  ;  while  a  cheerful  temper  gilds  the  edges 
of  life's  blackest  cloud,  and  flings  a  path  of  light 
across  a  sea  of  danger ;  contentment  sits  down  to  a 
crust  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  water,  and  gives  God 
thanks;  and  the  plainest  person  is  beautiful  in  the 
eyes  of  fond  affection.  Now  it  may  be  thought,  to 
John's  loving  eye,  his  heavenly  Father  seemed  so 
loving  and  so  lovely,  that  it  was  very  natural  for  him 
to  give  the  color  of  his  own  eyes  to  this  divine  ob- 
ject, and  say,  God  is  love.  But  it  is  to  be  remembered, 
that  when  he  gave  this  shortest,  sweetest  definition  of 
divinity,  he  was  not  painting  objects  only  as  they 
appeared  to  him ;  he  was  a  pen  in  the  hand  of  inspi- 
ration; —  like  the  keys  of  a  musical  instrument,  he 
sounded  to  the  movements  of  another's  will,  and  the 
touch  of  another's  finger ;  and  that — one  of  the  holy 
men  of  old,  who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost — it  was  not  he,  but  God  himself,  who 
thus  described  and  defined  himself,  "  God  is  love." 
Assuming  then  that  God  is  love,  it  may  be  asked, 
3* 


58  THE   GOSPEL   IN    E.'^EKIEL 

how  does  that  harmonize  with  the  text  ?     Hov/  is  it 
to  be  reconciled  with  words  where   God  represents 
hinaself   as  pouring  down  his  fury  like   a   thunder- 
shower,  and  scattering  his  people,  in  a  storm  of  in- 
dignation, as  light  and  worthless  chaff  blown  away 
upon   the  wind.     How,    it  may  be  asked,  does  this 
consist  with  God's  love  and  mercy  ?    Now,  there  is  no 
greater  mistake  than  to  suppose  that  God,  as  a  God  ot 
justice  and  a  God  of  mercy,  stands  in  antagonism  to 
himself     It  is  not  mercy,  but  injustice,  which  is  ir- 
reconcilable with  justice.      It  is  cruelty,   not  justice, 
that  stands  opposed  to  mercy.     These  attributes  of 
the  Godhead  are  not  contrary  the  one  to  the  other, 
as  are  light  and  darkness,  fire  and  water,  truth  and 
falsehood,  right  and  wrong.     No ;  like  two  streams 
which    unite   their  waters  to  form  a  common  river, 
iastice  and  mercy  are  combined  in  the  work  of  re- 
demption.     Like    the    two    cherubims  whose  wings 
met  above  the  ark — like  the  two   devout   and  holy 
men  who  drew  the  nails  from  Christ's  body,  and  bore 
it  to  the  grave — like  the  two  angels    who    received 
it  in  charge,  and,  seated,  the  one   at  the  head,  the 
other  at  the  feet,  kept  silent  watch  over  the  precious 
treasure — justice  and  mercy  are  associated  in  the  work 
of  Christ;  they  are  the  supporters  of  the  shield  on 
which    the    cross   is   emblazoned ;    they  sustain   the 
arms  of  our  heavenly  Advocate ;  they  form  the  two 
solid  and  eternal  pillars  of  the  Mediator's  throne.    On 
Calvary  mercy  and  truth  meet  together,  righteousness 
and  peace  embrace  each  other. 

These  remarks  may  prepare  our  minds  for  entering 
with  advantage  on  the  solemn  subject  of  God's  puni- 
tive justice ;  but,  ere  we  open  the  prison,  and  look 
down  into  the  pit,  I  would  further  bespeak  your  can 


MAN   SUFFERING.  69 

did  and  aifectionate  consideration  of  this  very  affect* 
ing  and  awful  subject,  by  remarking — 

I.  Tliat  God  is  slow  to  punish. 

"  He  executeth  not  judgment  speedily  against  tho 
workers  of  iniquity."  He  does  punish;  he  shall  pun- 
ish ;  with  reverence  be  it  spoken,  he  must  punish. 
Yet  no  hand  of  clock  goes  so  slow  as  God's  hand  of 
vengeance.  Of  that,  the  world,  this  city,  and  this 
church,  are  witnesses ;  each  and  all,  speaker  and  hear- 
er, are  living  witnesses.  It  is  too  common  to  overlook 
this  fact;  and,  overlooking  the  kindness,  long-suffer- 
ing, and  warnings  which  precede  the  punishment,  we 
are  too  apt  to  give  the  punishment  itself  our  exclusive 
attention.  We  see  his  kindness  impressed  on  all  his 
works.  Even  the  lion  growls  before  he  leaps,  and  be- 
fore the  snake  strikes  she  springs  her  rattle. 

Look,  for  example,  on  the  catastrophe  of  the  De- 
luge. We  may  have  our  attention  so  engrossed  by 
the  dread  and  av/ful  character  of  this  judgment,  as  to 
overlook  all  that  preceded  it,  and  see  nothing  but 
these  devouring  waters. 

The  waters  rise  till  rivers  swell  into  lakes,  and  lakes 
into  seas,  and  along  fertile  plains  the  sea  stretches 
out  her  arms  to  seize  their  %ing  population.  Still 
the  waters  rise ;  and  now,  mingled  with  beasts  that 
terror  has  tamed,  men  climb  to  the  mountain  tops,  the 
flood  roaring  at  their  heels.  Still  the  waters  rise ;  and 
now  each  summit  stands  above  them  like  a  separate 
and  sea-girt  isle.  Still  the  waters  rise ;  and,  crowding 
closer  on  the  narrow  spaces  of  their  lessening  tops, 
men  and  beasts  light  for  standing-room.  Still  the 
ihunders  roar  and  the  waters  rise,  till  the  last  survivor 
of  the  shrieking  crov/d  is  washed  off,  and  the  head  of 


60  THE    GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

tlio  highest  Alp  goes  cIoavii  beneath  the  wave  And 
now  the  waters  rise  no  more  ;  God's  servant  has  done 
his  work;  he  lests  from  his  labors;  and,  all  land 
drowned — all  life  destroyed — an  awful  silence  reign- 
ing, and  a  shoreless  ocean  rolling,  Death  for  once  has 
nothing  to  do,  but  ride  in  triumph  on  the  top  of  some 
giant  billow,  which,  meeting  no  coast,  no  continent. 
no  Alp,  no  Andes,  to  break  upon,  swee[)S  round  and 
round  the  world. 

We  stand  aghast  at  this  scene;  and,  as  the  corpses 
of  gentle  children  and  sweet  infants  are  floating  bv, 
we  exclaim,  "Has  God  forgotten  to  be  gracious — is 
his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever?"  No  ;  assuredly  not. 
Where,  then,  is  his  mercy  ?  Look  here  ;  look  at  this 
ark  which,  steered  by  an  invisible  hand,  comes  dimly 
through  the  gloom.  That  lonely  ship  on  a  shoreless 
sea  carries  mercy  on  board  ;  and  within  walls  that  are 
pitched  without  and  within,  she  holds  the  costliest 
freight  that  ever  sailed  the  sea.  The  germs  of  the 
church  are  there — the  patriarchs  of  the  old  world,  and 
the  fathers  of  the  new.  Suddenly,  amid  the  awful 
gloom,  as  she  drifts  over  that  dead  and  silent  sea,  a 
grating  noise  is  heard ;  she  has  grounded  on  the  top 
of  Ararat.  The  door  is  opened  ;  and  beneath  the 
sign  of  the  olive  branch,  they  come  forth  from  their 
baptismal  burial,  like  life  from  the  dead, — like  souls 
passing  from  nature  into  a  state  of  grace, — like  the 
saints  when  they  shall  rise  at  the  summons  of  the 
trumpet  to  behold  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth, 
and  to  see  the  sign,  which  these  "  gray  fathers"  hailed, 
encircling  the  head  that  was  crowned  with  thorns. 

ISTor  is  this  all.  Our  Heavenly  Father's  character 
is  dear  to  us  ;  and  I  must  remind  you  that  ere  mercy 
flew,  like  the  dove,  to  that  asylum,  she  had  swept  the 


MAN  SUFFERING.  61 

world  with  her  wings.  "Were  there  but  eight,  only 
eight  saved  ?  There  were  thousands,  millions  sought. 
Nor  is  it  justice  to  God  to  forget  how  long  a  period 
of  patience,  and  preaching  and  warning,  and  compas- 
sion, preceded  that  dreadful  deluge.  Long  before  tho 
lightning  flashed  from  angry  heavens;  long  before 
thunders  rolled  along  dissolving  skies;  long  bcfco 
the  clouds  rained  down  death ;  long  before  the  floo, 
and  solid  pavement  of  this  earth,  under  the  prodigiout- 
agencies  at  work,  broke  up,  like  the  deck  of  a  leaking 
ship,  and  the  waters  rushed  from  below  to  meet  the 
waters  from  above,  and  sink  a  guilty  world ;  long  be- 
fore the  time  when  the  ark  floated  away  by  tower  and 
town,  and  those  crowded  hill-tops,  where  frantic 
groups  had  clustered,  and  amid  prayers  and  curses, 
and  shrieks  and  shouts,  hung  out  their  signals  of  dis- 
tress— very  long  before  this,  God  had  been  calling 
an  impenitent  world  to  repentance.  Had  they  no 
warning  in  Koah's  preaching?  Was  there  nothing 
to  alarm  them  in  the  very  sight  of  the  ark  as  story 
rose  upon  story ;  and  nothing  in  the  sound  of  those 
ceaseless  hammers  to  waken  all  bat  the  dead  ?  It 
was  not  till  Mercy's  arm  grew  weary  ringing  the 
warning  bell,  that,  to  use  the  words  of  my  text,  God 
"poured  out  his  fury"  on  them.  I  appeal  to  the  sto- 
ry of  this  awful  judgment.  True,  for  forty  days  it 
rained  incessantly,  and  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  days 
more  ''  the  waters  prevailed  on  the  earth  ;"  but  while 
the  period  of  God's  justice  is  reckoned  by  days,  tho 
period  of  his  long-suffering  was  drawn  out  into  years; 
and  there  was  a  truce  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
years  between  the  first  stroke  of  the  bell  and  the  first 
crash  of  the  thunder.  Noah  grew  gray  preaching  re- 
pentance.    Thv;  ark  stood  useless  for  years,  a  huge 


62  THE    GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

laughing-stock  for  the  scoffer's  wit ;  it  stood  till  it  was 
covered  with  the  marks  of  age,  and  its  builders  with 
the  contempt  of  the  world ;  and  many  a  sneer  had 
these  men  to  bear,  as,  pointing  to  the  serene  heaveng 
above  ani  an  empty  ark  below,  the  question  was 
put,  "  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ?"  Most 
patient  God  1  Then,  as  now,  thou  wert  slow  to  pun- 
ish— "  waiting  to  be  gracious." 

As  that  catastrophe  and  many  other  judgments 
prove — he  is  slow  to  anger.  God  poured  out  his 
fury ;  but  his  indignation  was  the  volcano  that  groans 
fur  days  before  it  discharges  the  elements  of  destruc- 
tion, and  pours  out  its  lavas  on  the  vineyards  at  its 
feet.  Where,  when  God's  anger  has  burned  hottest, 
was  it  ever  known  that  judgment  trod  on  the  heels  of 
sin  ?  A  period  always  intervenes  ;  room  is  given  for 
remonstrance  on  God's  part,  and  repentance  upon 
ours.  The  stroke  of  judgment  is  indeed,  like  the 
stroke  of  lightning,  irresistible,  fatal ;  it  kills — kills  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  But  the  clouds  from  which 
it  flashes  are  slow  to  gather,  and  thicken  by  degrees ; 
and  he  must  be  deeply  engaged  with  the  pleasures,  or 
engrossed  in  the  business  of  the  world,  whom  the 
flash  and  peal  surprise.  The  gathering  clouds,  the 
deepening  gloom,  the  still  and  sultry  air,  the  awful 
silence,  the  big  pattering  rain-drops — these  reveal  his 
danger  to  the  traveler,  and  warn  him  from  river, 
road,  or  hill,  to  the  nearest  refuge.  Heeded  or  un 
heeded,  many  are  the  warnings  you  get  from  God. 
lie  has  "no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked;"  he 
is  "not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all 
should  turn  to  him  and  live;  and  no  man  ever  3^et 
went  to  hell,  but  trampling  under  foot  ten  thousand 
warnings, — ten  times  ten  thousand  mercies. 


MAN   SUFFERING.  6S 

Whatever  injastice  men  may  do  themselves — how- 
ever reckless  they  may  cast  away  salvation  and  their 
souls,  I  demand  justice  for  him  whose  ambassador  I 
am — for  these  mysteries  of  salvation  of  which  I  am  a 
steward.  No  doubt  he  says,  "I  poured  out  my  fury 
upon  them;"  but  when  was  this  done?  ISTot  till 
divine  patience  was  exhausted,  and  a  succession  of 
servants  had  been  commissioned  to  warn,  to  preach, 
and  plead  with  them.  Kemember  the  words  of  a 
weeping  Saviour,  as  he  looked  on  the  city  from  the 
top  of  Olivet — "  O,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that 
killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest  them  which  are  sent 
unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy 
children  together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens 
under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not !  Could  language 
furnish  terms  more  tender  or  pathetic  than  these  ? 
Or  those,  in  which  God  pours  forth  his  affection  for 
this  very  people — "  When  Israel  was  a  child,  then  I 
loved  him:  I  taught  Ephraim  also  to  go:  taking 
them  by  their  arms,  I  drew  them  with  the  cords  of  a 
man,  and  with  bonds  of  love  ?"  This  language  carries 
us  into  the  tenderest  scenes  of  domestic  life;  it  re- 
minds us  of  a  mother,  who,  when  telling  us  how  one 
child  had  been  blighted  in  the  bud,  and  how  another 
had  strayed  from  the  paths  of  virtue,  and  how  all  the 
sweet  flowers  of  her  home  had  withered  away,  bitterly 
looked  back  on  departed  joys,  and  cried,  as  she  wrung 
her  hands  in  a  lonely  cottage — "Ah!  these  were 
happy  days,  when  they  were  children  at  my  knee." 
Like  a  father  who  hangs  over  some  unworthy  son, 
and,  while  his  heart  is  torn  by  contending  emotions, 
hesitates  what  to  do — whether  once  and  for  ever  to 
dismiss  him,  or  to  give  him  another  trial — it  is  most 
touching  to  see  God  bending  over  sinners,  and  this 


64:  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

flood  of  melting  pathos  bursting  from  Lis  heart- 
"How  shall  I  give  thee  up,  Ephraim?  how  shall  ] 
deliver  thee,  Israel?  How  shall  I  make  thee  ag 
Admab,  how  shall  I  set  thee  as  Zeboim?  Mino 
heart  is  turned  within  me ;  my  repentings  are  kindled 
together.  I  will  not  execute  the  fierceness  of  mine 
anger ;  I  will  not  return  to  destroy  Ephraim,  for  1  am 
God  and  not  man." 

Let  us  do  the  same  justice  to  our  Father  in  heaven 
that  v/c  would  render  to  an  earthly  parent.  Would 
it  be  doing  a  father  justice  to  look  at  him  only  when 
the  rod  is  raised  in  his  hand,  and  the  child  is  on  his 
knees,  and  although  the  trembling  lip,  and  weeping 
eyes,  and  choked  utterance  of  his  boy,  and  a  fond 
mother's  intercession  also,  all  plead  with  him  to  spare, 
he  refuses.  In  this,  how  stern  he  looks !  But  before 
you  can  know  that  father,  or  judge  his  heart  aright, 
you  ought  to  know  how  often  ere  this  the  offence  had 
been  forgiven ;  you  should  have  heard  with  what 
tender  affection  he  had  warned  his  child ;  and  above 
all,  you  should  have  stood  at  the  back  of  his  closet 
door,  and  listened  when  he  pleaded  with  God  in  his 
behalf.  Justice  to  him  requires,  that  you  should  have 
seen  with  what  slow  and  lingering  steps  he  went  for 
the  rod,  the  trembling  of  his  hand,  and  how,  as  the 
tears  fell  from  his  eye,  he  raised  it  to  heaven  and 
sought  strength  to  inflict  a  punishment  which,  were, 
it  to  serve  the  purpose,  he  would  a  hundred  times 
sooner  bear  than  inflict.  When, — nursing  his  rage 
for  months,  and  coolly  planning  the  atrocious  murder, 
— Absalom  slew  his  brother,  David  was  so  shocked  at 
this  horrible  crime,  that,  although  he  permitted  him 
to  return  to  Jerusalem,  yet  for  two  whole  years  he 
refused    to    see   him.     His   son,    his   eldest   son,   his 


MAN  SUFFERING.  65 

favorite  son,  lie  would  hold  no  intercourse  with  Absa- 
lom, nor  speak  to  him,  nor  look  on  hitn.  Would  it 
be  justice  to  David  to  confine  our  attention  to  this? 
Under  that  averted  eye,  and  cold  and  stern  aspect, 
what  a  heart!  Goaded  on  by  ambition,  this  guilty 
Bon  next  aims  a  blow  at  his  father's  life,  and  falls ; 
then  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  are  opened,  and 
what  a  flood  of  feeling !  What  is  it  now  to  David, 
his  crown  is  safe,  his  throne  secure?  Absalom  is 
dead!  "Oh  Absalom!  my  son,  my  son  Absalom! 
would  God  I  had  died  for  thee.  Oh  Absalom,  my  son, 
my  son!"  And,  would  we  do  our  heavenly  father 
justice,  we  must  look  on  Calvary  as  well  as  on  Eden. 
The  Son  of  God  indeed  does  not  go  up  and  down 
heaven  weeping,  wringing  his  hands,  and,  to  the 
amazement  of  silent  angels,  crying,  Would  God  that 
I  had  died  for  man  !  A  more  amazing  spectacle  is 
here.  He  turns  his  back  on  heaven ;  he  leaves  the 
bosom  and  happy  fellowship  of  his  Father,  he  bares 
his  o\vn  breast  to  the  sword  of  justice,  and  in  the 
depths  of  a  love  never  to  be  fathomed,  he  dies  on  that 
accursed  tree,  "the  just  for  the  unjust  that  we  might 
be  saved !  " 

Through  this  vestibule  of  love,  mercy,  and  long 
suffering,  we  have  thought  it  well  to  introduce  you 
into  the  scenes  of  God's  punitive  justice.  It  is  on 
iron,  softened  by  the  glowing  fire,  that  impressions 
are  made  and  left ;  and  expecting  good  only  when 
what  is  terrible  is  associated  with  what  is  tender,  we 
have  thought  it  well  that  you  should  see  at  the  very 
outset  how  slow  God  is  to  smite,  how  sw^ft  to  save. 
Swift  fly  the  wings  of  mercy.  Slow  goes  the  hand 
of  justice;  like  the  shadow  on  the  sun-dial,  ever 
moving,  yet  creeping  slowly  on,  with  a  motion  all  but 


QQ  THE   GOSPEL    IN    EZF:KIEL. 

imperceptible.  Still  let  sinners  stand  in  awe.  Tho 
hand  of  justice  Las  not  stopped,  althoiigli  impercepti- 
bly, it  steadily  adv^ances ;  by  and  by,  having  reached 
the  tenth,  eleventh,  twelfth  hour,  the  bell  strikes. 
Then,  -anless  you  now  flee  to  Christ,  the  blow  which 
was  so  slow  to  fall,  shall  descend  on  the  head  of  im- 
penitence with  accumulated  force.  Let  it  never  be 
forgotten,  that  although  God's  patience  is  lasting,  it  is 
not  everlasting. 
Observe — 

II.  How  he  punished  his  ancient  people. 

This  is  furnished  to  our  hand  in  many  portions  of 
Scripture.  For  example,  "  Now,  because  ye  have 
done  all  these  works,  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  spake  unto 
you,  rising  up  early  and  speaking,  but  ye  heard  not; 
and  I  called  you,  but  ye  answered  not ;  therefore  will 
I  do  unto  this  house  which  is  called  by  my  name, 
wherein  ye  trust,  and  unto  the  place  which  I  gave  to 
you  and  to  your  fathers,  as  I  have  done  to  Shiloh. 
And  I  will  cast  you  out  of  my  sight,  as  I  have  cast 
out  all  your  brethren,  even  the  whole  seed  of  Abra- 
ham. Therefore,  pray  not  thou  for  this  people,  nei- 
ther lift  up  cry  nor  prayer  for  them,  neither  make  in- 
tercession to  me ;  for  I  will  not  hear  thee.  The  car- 
casses of  this  people  shall  be  meat  for  the  fowls  of  the 
heaven,  and  for  the  beasts  of  the  earth;  and  none  shall 
fi-ay  them  away.  Then  will  I  cause  to  cease  from  the 
cities  of  Judah,  and  from  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  the 
voice  of  mirth,  and  the  voice  of  gladness,  the  voice  of 
the  bridegroom,  and  the  voice  of  the  bride;  for  the 
xand  shall  be  desolate.  And  death  shall  be  chosen 
rather  than  life  by  all  the  residue  of  them  that  remain 
of  this  evil  family,  which  remain  in  all   the  places 


MAN  SUFFERING.  67 

wliitlier  I  have  driven  them,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
I  will  surely  consume  them,  saith  the  Lord ;  there 
shall  be  no  grapes  on  the  vine,  nor  figs  on  the  fig- 
tree,  and  the  leaf  shall  flide ;  and  the  things  tliat  I 
have  given  them  shall  pass  away  from  them.  The 
Lord  cur  God  hath  put  us  to  silence,  and  given  us 
water  of  gall  to  drink,  because  we  have  sinned  against 
the  Lord.  We  looked  for  peace,  but  no  good  came ; 
and  for  a  time  of  health,  and  behold  trouble!  The 
snorting  of  his  horses  was  heard  from  Dan  ;  the  whole 
land  trembled  at  the  sound  of  the  neighing  of  his 
strong  ones :  for  they  are  come,  and  have  devoured 
the  land,  and  all  that  is  in  it — the  cit}^,  and  those  that 
dwell  therein.  The  harvest  is  past,  the  summer  is 
ended,  and  we  are  not  saved.  I  am  black  ;  astonish- 
ment hath  taken  hold  on  me.  Ls  there  no  balm  in 
Gilead?  Is  there  no  physician  there?  Why,  then, 
is  not  the  health  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  recov- 
ered r 

These  were  the  children  of  Abraham,  beloved  for 
the  fathers  sake — the  sole  depositories  of  divine  truth 
—  God's  chosen  people,  through  whose  line  and  lineage 
his  Son  ^vas  to  appear.  How  solemn,  then,  and  how 
appropriate  the  question — "  If  such  things  were  done 
in  the  green  tree,  what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ?" 
Look  at  Judah  sitting  amid  the  ruins  of  Jerusalem, 
her  temple  without  a  worshiper,  and  her  streets 
choked  with  the  dead :  look  at  that  bound,  weeping, 
bleeding  remnant  of  the  nation  toiling,  on  its  way  to 
Babylon  :  look  at  these  broken,  peeled,  riven  boughs; 
and  may  I  not  warn  you  with  the  Apostle — "  If  God 
spared  not  the  natural  branches,  take  heed  lest  he 
spare  not  thee."  We  have  seen  an  ancient  mirror 
from  the  sepulchers  of  Egypt,  in  which,  some  threo 


68  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

thousand  years  ago,  tlie  swathed  and  mummied  form 
beside  whose  dust  it  lay  looked  upon  her  face,  to  nurse 
her  vanity,  or  mourn  her  deformity.  In  the  verses 
quoted  we  have  a  mirror  well  nigh  as  old,  in  which 
the  prophet  showed  God's  ancient  people  their  like- 
ness and  their  sins ;  and  when  I  take  it  from  the  dead 
man's  hand,  to  hold  it  up  before  you,  do  not  some  of 
you  recognize,  in  the  features  which  it  presents,  those 
of  your  own  state  and  character?  Are  they  not  to  be 
seen  in  such  words  as  these,  for  instance — ''  I  spake 
unto  you,  rising  up  early,  but  ye  heard  not ;  I  called 
you,  but  3^e  answered  not :"  or  these — "  The  harvest 
is  past,  the  summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved." 
Are  none  of  us  the  degenerate  plants  of  a  noble  vine? 
Are  there  none  of  us  who,  although  trained  to  respect 
the  Sabbath,  have  forgotten  the  lesson  of  our  child- 
hood ?  none  with  a  picture  of  their  early  days  yet 
fresh  in  memory,  that  exhibits  a  venerable  father 
bending  over  the  Bible,  and,  with  his  family  around 
him,  leading  the  domestic  devotions,  who  have  them- 
selves no  altar  in  their  homes  ; — who  have  a  house, 
but  no  household  God  ?  Have  none  of  us  defrauded 
our  children,  not  of  ancestral  lands,  but  of  what  is  in- 
finitely more  valuable,  an  ancestral  piety?  On  the 
walls  of  many  a  house  from  which  piety  has  been  ex- 
pelled may  we  not  read  the  words — "  They  did  worse 
than  their  fathers  ?" 

If  we  speak  thus,  it  is  for  your  good.  We  would 
not  arm  ourselves  with  these  harsh  thunders  of  the 
law,  except,  in  the  words  of  Paul,  "  to  persuade  you 
by  the  terrors  of  the  Lord."  We  have  no  faith  in  ter- 
ror disassociated  from  tenderness.  Trusting  more  to 
the  process  of  drawing  than  driving  men  to  Jesus,  we 
pray  you  to  observe  that  ho  who  is  the  good  is  also  a 


MAN   SUFFERING.  69 

Trsmt  tender  Shepherd.  Among  the  nuis  of  our  native 
land  I  have  met  a  shepherd  far  from  the  folds,  driving 
home  a  lost  sheep — one  which  had  "  gone  astray" — a 
creature  panting  for  breath,  amazed,  alarmed,  foot- 
sore ;  and  when  the  rocks  around  rang  loud  to  the 
baying  of  the  dogs,  I  have  seen  them,  w^henever  it 
offered  to  turn  from  the  path,  with  open  mouth  dash- 
ing fiercely  at  its  sides,  and  thus  hounding  it  home. 
How  differently  Jesus  brings  home  his  lost  ones! 
The  lost  sheep  sought  and  found,  he  lifts  it,  tenderly 
lays  it  on  his  shoulder,  and,  retracing  his  steps,  returns 
with  joy,  and  invites  his  neighbors  to  rejoice  along 
with  him.  The  ''  green  pastures"  where  he  feeds  his 
flock,  the  rocks  under  whose  grateful  shadows  they 
repose  in  noontide  of  the  day,  the  flowery  and  fra- 
grant banks  of  the  streams  where  they  drink,  are  dis- 
turbed by  no  sounds  of  violence  nor  voice  of  terror. 
Yes ;  Jesus  rules  his  flock  by  love,  not  by  fear ;  and 
amid  the  holy  calm  of  sweet  Sabbath  mornings,  gentle 
of  countenance,  he  may  be  seen  at  their  head,  conduct- 
ing them  forth  to  pastures  sparkling  with  the  dews  of 
heaven,  some  sweet  lamb  in  his  arms,  its  mother  at  his 
side,  and  all  his  flock  behind  him  ;  his  rod  their  guard, 
and  his  voice  their  guide.  Catching  grace  from  his 
lips,  and  tenderness  from  his  looks,  I  would  speak  to 
you  as  becomes  the  servant  of  such  a  gentle,  lowly, 
loving  Master.  Yet,  shall  I  conceal  God's  verity,  and 
ruin  men's  souls  to  spare  their  feelings  ?  Shall  I  sa- 
crifice truth  at  the  shrine  of  a  false  politeness  ?  To 
hide  what  Jesus  revealed  were  not  to  be  more  tender, 
but  less  faithful  than  He.  If  the  taste  of  these  days 
were  so  degenerate  as  to  frown  down  the  honest 
preacher  who  should  pronounce  that  awful  word 
"  ILell,"  and  leave  him  to  vacant  pews,  it  were  better, 


70  THE   GOSPEL    IX    EZEKIEL. 

far  better,  that  he  should  be  as  "  one  crying  in  tli-? 
wilderness,"  and  getting  no  response  but  the  echo  of 
empty  walls,  than  that  he  should  fail  in  proclaiming 
"  the  whole  counsel  of  God."  Apart  from  your  inter- 
ests, and  looking  only  at  my  own,  how  could  I  other- 
wise hold  up  these  hands,  and  say,  "  They  are  clean 
from  the  blood  of  all  men?"  How  otherwise  could 
the  preacher  turn  from  his  unhappy  head  the  Bible's 
closing  curse — "  If  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the 
words  of  this  book,  God  shall  take  away  his  part  out 
of  the  book  of  life."  Eegard  to  myself,  to  you — re- 
gard to  a  gracious  God,  to  a  blessed  Saviour — regard 
to  all  that  is  precious,  solemn,  sacred,  eternal — these 
now  compel  me,  although  with  trembling  hands,  to 
lift  the  vail. 

If  any  are  living  without  God,  and  hope,  and  Christ, 
and  prayer,  I  implore  them  to  look  here:  turn  to  this 
dreadful  pit.  How  it  gleams  with  fire !  How  it  re- 
sounds with  woeful  groans  !  Now,  when  we  stand  to- 
gether on  its  margin,  or  rather  shrink  back  with  horror, 
look  there,  and  say,  "  Who  can  lie  down  in  everlasting 
burnings?" 

It  is  alleged  by  travelers,  that  the  ostrich,  when 
pursued  by  its  hunters,  will  thrust  its  head  into  a  bush, 
and,  without  further  attempt  either  at  flight  or  resist- 
ance, quietly  submit  to  the  stroke  of  death.  Men  say 
that,  having  thus  succeeded  in  shutting  the  pursuers 
out  of  its  own  sight,  the  bird  is  stupid  enough  to  fancy 
that  it  has  shut  itself  out  of  theirs,  and  that  the  dan- 
ger, which  it  has  concealed  from  its  eyes,  has  ceased  to 
exist.  We  doubt  that.  God  makes  no  mistakes ;  and, 
guided  as  the  lower  animals  are  in  all  their  instincts 
by  infinite  Wisdom,  I  flmcy  that  a  more  correct  know- 
ledge of  that  creature  would  show,  that  whatever  stu- 


MAN    SUFFERING.  71 

pidity  there  may  be  in  tlie  matter,  lies  not  in  tlie  poor 
bird,  but  in  man's  rash  conclusion  regarding  it.  Man 
trusts  to  hopes  which  fail  him:  the  spider  never;  she 
commits  her  weight  to  no  thread  which  she  has  spun, 
till  she  has  pulled  on  it  with  her  arms,  and  proved  its 
strength.  Misfortune  overtakes  man  unprovided  and 
unprepared  for  it:  not  winter  the  busy  bee.  Amid 
the  blaze  of  gospel  light,  man  misses  his  road  to 
heaven :  without  any  light  whatever,  in  the  darkest 
night,  the  swallows  cleave  their  way  through  the  path- 
less air,  returning  to  the  window-nook  where  they  were 
nestled ;  and  through  the  depths  of  ocean  the  fish 
steer  their  course  back  to  the  river  where  they  were 
spawned.  If  we  would  find  folly,  Solomon  tells  us 
where  to  seek  it: — "Folly,"  saj^s  the  wise  man,  "is 
bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child  :"  and  what  is  folded 
up  there,  like  leaves  in  their  bud,  blows  out  in  the 
deeds  and  habits  of  men.  This  poor  bird,  which  has 
thrust  its  head  into  the  bush,  and  stands  quietly  to 
receive  the  shot,  has  been  hunted  to  death.  For 
hours  the  cry  of  its  pursuers  has  rung  in  its  startled 
ear ;  for  hours  their  feet  have  been  on  its  weary  track ; 
it  has  exhausted  strength,  and  breath,  and  crafty  and 
cunning,  to  escape;  and  even  yet,  give  it  time  to 
breathe — give  it  another  chance — and  it  is  away  with 
the  wind ;  and  with  wings  outspread,  on  rapid  ftet  it 
spurns  the  burning  sand.  It  is  because  escape  is 
hopeless  and  death  is  certain  that  it  has  buried  its  head 
in  that  bush,  and  shut  its  eyes  to  a  fate  which  it  can- 
not avert.  To  man— rational  and  responsible  man — 
belongs  the  folly  of  closing  his  eyes  to  a  fate  which 
lie  may  avert,  and  thrusting  his  head  into  the  bush 
while  escape  is  possible ;  and,  because  he  can  put  death, 
and  judgment,  and  eternity  out  of  mind,  living  as  if 


72  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

there  were  neither  a  bed  of  death  nor  bar  of  judg- 
ment. •  Be  wise :  be  men.  Look  your  danger  in  the 
face.  Anticipate  the  day  when  you  shall  behold  a 
God  in  judgment  and  a  world  in  flames  ;  and  now  flee 
to  Jesus  fi'om  the  wrath  to  come.  To  come !  In  a 
sense  wrath  has  already  come.  The  fire  has  caught, 
it  has  seized  your  garments  ;  you  are  in  flames.  Oh  I 
away  then,  and  cast  yourselves  into  that  fountain  which 
has  power  to  quench  these  fires,  and  cleanse  you  frotn 
ail  youf  sins. 


d^oYB  jjunitibe  ^xiBtltL 

Wherefore  I  poured  my  fury  upon  them,  and  I  scattered  them  among 
the  heathen,  and  they  were  dispersed  through  the  countries :  ac- 
cording to  their  way,  and  according  to  their  doings,  I  judged 
them. — EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  18,  19. 

The  dank  mossy  sward  is  deceitful :  its  fresh  and 
glossy  carpet  invites  the  traveler  to  leave  the  roug.. 
moorland  track ;  and,  at  the  first  step,  horse  and  rider 
are  buried  in  the  morass.  The  sea  is  deceitful.  "What 
rage,  what  furious  passions  sleep  in  that  placid  bo- 
som !  and  how  often — as  Vice  serves  her  nsed-up  vic- 
tims— does  she  throw  the  bark  that  sht.  received  into 
her  wanton  arms,  a  wreck  upon  the  shore.  The  morn 
ing  is  oft  deceitful.  With  bright  promise  of  a  brilliant 
day  it  lures  us  from  home  ;  ere  noon  the  sky  begins 
to  thicken,  the  sun  looks  sickly,  the  sluggish,  heavily- 
laden  clouds  gather  upon  the  hill-tops,  the  landscape 
all  around  closes  in  ;  the  lark  drops  songless  into  her 
nest ;  the  wind  rises,  blowing  cold  and  chill ;  and  at 
length — like  adversities  gathering  round  the  grey  head 
of  age — tempests,  storm,  and  rain,  thicken  on  the  dy- 
ing day.  The  desert  is  deceitful:  it  mocks  the  tra- 
veler with  its  mirage.  How  life  kindles  in  his  droop- 
ing eye,  as  he  sees  the  playful  waves  chase  each  other 
to  the  shore,  and  the  plumes  of  the  palm  waving  in 
the  watery  mirror!  Faint,  weary,  perishing  with 
thirst,  he  turns  to  bathe  and  drink ;  and,  exhausting 
his  remaining  strength  in  pursuit  of  a  phantom,  finds, 
unhappy  man !  that  he  has  turned  to  die. 

4 


74  THE  GosrEL  in  ezekiel. 

Deceitful  above  sward,  or  sea,  or  sky,  or  endianV 
ed  desert,  is  the  heart  of  man ;  nor  do  I  know  a 
more  marked  or  melancholy  proof  of  this  than  that 
which  our  light  treatment  of  sucli  weighty  matteri 
as  sin  and  judgment  affords.  There  is  no  exaggera- 
tion in  the  prophet's  language — ''The  heart  is  de- 
ceitful above  all  tilings,  and  desperately  wicked." 
Put  a  case: — The  flames  have  broken  out  in  some 
house,  and  the  fire  spreads  fast ;  at  midnight  the  roll 
of  the  drum  wakens  the  sleeping  streets — a  fearful 
sound !  soon  followed  by  the  hurried  yet  measured 
tramp  of  armed  men,  and  the  rush  of  a  crowd,  who, 
guided  by  a  glare  that  illumines  the  sky,  and  turns 
night  into  ruddy  day,  pour  on  the  scene  of  danger; 
and  where  the  flames,  bursting  out  from  cellar  to  roof, 
shed  their  lurid  light  on  glancing  bayonets,  strong 
arms  below  are  working  as  for  life,  and  daring  men 
above,  ever  and  anon  lost  among  clouds  of  smoke, 
turn  the  stream  upon  the  hissing  fire.  In  this  stirring 
scene,  where  is  the  tenant  of  the  house?  How  is  he 
engaged  ?  They  thunder  at  the  door ;  they  call  his 
name;  they  rear  the  ladder  against  the  window;  and 
now  they  shout  to  him  to  wake,  and  haste,  and  flee, 
leaving  house  and  furniture  to  the  flames.  They  listen, 
but  no  answer.  Alas  1  he  has  perished  ?  Help  has 
come  too  late?  No  ;  he  lives:  he  has  heard  all  that 
horrid  din.  JJe  sin,ejls  the  smoke  ;  he  feels  the  floor 
grow  hot,  and  hotter,  beneath  his  feet ;  and  amid  the 
thick  and  suffocating  air  the  man  gasps  for  breath. 
Ho  has  heard  the  cries  of  kindly  neighbors.;  tlii3  glass 
of  the  window,  as  a  strong  hand  dashes  it  in^  falls  at 
his  feet,  and  he  sees  the  very  Ladder  resting  on  its  sill. 
Well;  has  some  ruffian  hand  bound  him  neck  and 
heel,  that  he  does  not  move?  or  gagged  him,  that  lio 


75 

gives  back  no  answer  ?  Kot  at  all.  The  man  is  busy, 
very  busy,  ruminating  on  the  question  hov/  the  fire 
began  ;  or  with  some  pugnacious  neighbor,  as  insane 
as  himself,  he  is  engaged  in  keen  discussion  about 
when  and  where  it  first  broke  out.  Incredible !  yet 
incredible  as  that  appears,  this  heart  is  so  deceitful, 
that  something  less  excusable  and  more  incredible 
still  daily  meets  us  in  (what  shall  I  call  it?)  the  folly, 
the  insanity,  of  thousands.  God  has  sounded  the 
alarum.  Eoused  from  sleep — in  some  sense  convinced 
of  sin — in  some  measure  awake  to  danger — the  dream 
of  safety  broken  in  upon — warned  that  there  is  no 
time  to  spare — with  the  flames  of  wrath  above,  be- 
neath, around,  blocking  up  all  the  common  avenues  of 
escape — the  first,  if  not  the  only  question,  should  be, 
''  Oh,  Sirs,  what  shall  I  do  ?  Where  shall  I  turn  ? 
Quick ;  say,  this  moment  say,  '  What  shall  I  do  to 
be  saved  ?'  "  Yet,  when  the  only  question  is,  how  to 
escape  from  impending,  imminent  danger,  hours,  days, 
years,  are  wasted  in  inquiries  and  discussions  such  as 
this — How  the  race  came  to  be  exposed  to  it. 

Let  theologians  settle  the  metaphysics  of  the  Fall ; 
their  business  may  be  to  know  how  we  became  sin- 
ners ;  our  first  business  is  to  know  how  we  are  to  be 
saved.  Leave  those  who  have  reached  the  land  to 
settle  how  and  on  what  reef  the  vessel  struck ;  the 
question  with  us,  who  still  cling  to  the  shrouds,  or  are 
battling  with  the  surf,  is,  bow  to  gain  yon  blessed 
shore.  In  God's  name,  and  by  God's  help,  get  the 
fire  put  out;  and  then,  when  the  flames  are  quenched, 
it  will  be  time  enough  to  consider  how  they  were 
kindled.  Tie  the  bleeding  artery ;  and  when  life  is 
saved,  settle,  if  you  can,  how  it  was  wounded.  When 
you  have  plucked  the  drowning  man  from  the  water, 


TlB  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

and  laid  him  on  tlie  bank,  and  the  color  flushca 
again  on  his  cheek,  and  the  pulse  beats  again  at  his 
wrist,  and  speech  again  returns  to  these  blue  and 
livid  lips,  then  you  may  speculate  on  how  he  fell 
into  the  flood.  When,  in  spite  of  Satan,  and  by 
God's  help,  we  have  wakened  some  careless  one  to 
care  about  his  soul,  it  is  one  of  the  devil's  wiles  to 
distract  his  attention  by  such  subjects,  and  amid  the 
mazes  of  their  inextricable  labyrinths  to  bewilder  him, 
who  should  be  pressing  on  to  salvation  at  the  top 
of  his  speed.  I  would  have  the  man  who  is  en- 
gaged in  such  an  enterprise  to  give  these  questions 
in  the  meanwhile  the  go-by ^for  once  to  apply  well, 
words  so  often  applied  ill — "  I  will  hear  thee  again  on 
on  this  matter:"  "when  I  have  a  more  convenient 
season  I  will  send  for  thee."  These  are  profound  sub- 
jects, worthy  of  the  investigations  of  angels  and  ex- 
alted saints.  We  could  not  apply  to  their  study  the 
words  of  Kehemiah — "  I  have  a  great  work  to  do ; 
therefore  I  can  not  come  down."  But  in  saving  our- 
selves and  others,  I  am  sure  that  there  is  enough  to 
do,  without  occupying  our  attention  with  unsatisfac- 
tory speculations  on  moral  evil,  and  the  entrance  of 
sin  into  our  world.  In  the  first  place,  few  have  time 
or  talent  for  such  studies.  In  the  second  place,  al- 
though we  had,  we  should  find  that,  like  going  down 
into  a  coal-pit,  or  the  depths  of  ocean,  the  further 
we  descended  the  darker  it  grew  :  we  should  fare 
no  better  than  the  fallen  intelligences  described  by 
Milton : — 

•  Others  apart  sate  on  a  hill  retired, 
In  thoughts  more  elevate,  and  reasoned  high 
Of  Providence,  foreknowledge,  will,  and  fate — 
Fixed  fate,  free  will  foreknowledge  absolute — 


god's  punitive  justice.  77 

And  found  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost. 
Of  good  and  evil  much  they  argued  there — 
Vain  wisdom  all,  and  false  philosophy." 

And  in  the  third  place,  we  may  postpone  these  specu 
lations  till  we  enjoy  the  leisure  of  eternity,  and  can 
examine  subjects  so  obscure  in  the  clear  light  oi 
heaven.  Meanwhile,  let  it  content  us  to  be  assured, 
that  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  shall  correspond  to 
the  height  of  our  elevation ;  and  that,  as  a  man,  from 
the  bartisan  of  some  lofty  tower,  or  the  summit  oi 
some  loftier  mountain,  commands  a  wider  view  and 
broader  landscape,  and,  in  the  course  of  rivers,  the 
ranges  of  hills,  the  outlines  and  indentations  of  the 
coast,  obtains  a  far  more  extensive  view  of  objects, 
and  a  much  clearer  conception  of  their  relative  bear- 
ings, than  he  enjoyed  in  the  plain  below ;  so,  while 
some  subjects,  like  the  snowy  summits  of  the  Hima- 
layas or  Andes,  may  remain  for  ever  inaccessible,  yet, 
once  raised  to  heaven,  we  shall  understand  many 
mysteries,  and  solve  many  questions,  connected  with 
sin  and  its  sorrows,  of  which  it  is  best  now  to  say, 
**  Such  knowledge  is  too  high  for  me  ;  I  cannot  attain 
unto  it."  A  child  seated  on  the  shoulders  of  a  giant 
may  see  further  than  the  giant  himself;  and  an  infant 
standing  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  very  much  farther 
than  the  giant  at  its  feet :  and  even  so,  the  lisping 
babe,  whom  Jesus  has  taken  from  a  mother's  bosom 
to  his  own,  excels  in  knowledge  the  profoundest  oi 
philosophers  and  the  greatest  of  divines.  In  heaven 
we  shall  see  as  we  are  seen — we  shall  know  as  we  are 
known  :  there  "  the  light  of  the  moon  shall  be  as  the 
light  of  the  sun,  and  the  light  of  the  sun  shall  bo 
sevenfold." 

In  considering  at  greater  length  the  punitive  justice 


78  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

of  God,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  offer  any  fall  or  satis- 
factory explanation  of  what  is  beyond  our  under- 
standing. How  a  v/ise,  holy,  good,  and  gracious  God 
permitted  what  he  certainly  could  have  prevented — 
permitted  sin  to  exist  at  all — is  at  present  a  mystery, 
and  may  for  ever  remain  one.  With  others,  I  might 
contribute  some  attempts  to  solve  that  difficulty ;  but 
I  believe  that,  like  all  preceding  efforts,  these  would 
throw  no  more  light  on  this  va&t  and  mysterious  sub- 
ject than  a  candle  sheds  on  a  widely  extended  land- 
scape clothed  in  mist  or  wrapped  in  midnight  dark- 
ness. Amid  these  awful  and  often  painful  mysteries, 
we  can  only  cling  to  the  faith,  and  cherish  an  unshaken 
confidence  in  this,  that  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  doeth 
right — that  God  at  least  is  a  King  who  can  do  no 
wrong.  To  the  man,  then,  who  asks,  Why  am  I  bora 
with  a  bias  to  sin?  Why  has  another's  hand  been 
permitted  to  sow  germs  of  evil  in  me?  Why  should 
I,  who  was  no  party  to  the  first  covenant,  be  buried 
in  its  ruins?  if  the  Bible  says  in  reply  to  the  query — 
"  What  mean  ye,  that  ye  use  this  proverb  concerning 
the  land  of  Israel :  the  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes, 
and  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge  ?"  "As  I  live, 
saith  the  Lord  God,  ye  shall  not  have  occasion  any 
longer  to  use  this  proverb  in  Israel,"  why,  then,  do  I 
suffer  for  Adam's  sin  ?  Why,  most  virulent  of  poisons  I 
should  this  sin  infect  the  blood  of  a  hundred  gene- 
rations ?  Why  should  I  suffer  for  a  crime  committed 
so  long  ago  as  six  thousand  years,  and  to  which  I  no 
more  consented  than  to  Cain's  murder  of  Abel,  or 
Heiod's  massacre  of  the  innocents  ?  To  these  ques- 
tions this  is  my  reply  :  I  shrink  from  sitting  in  judg- 
ment upon  my  Judge.  Clouds  and  darkness  are 
round  about  Jehovah  now;  but  I  am  confident  that, 


god's  punitive  justice.  79 

when  expiring  Time  cries,  "It  is  finished,"  and  tlie 
vail  of  a  present  economy  is  rent,  it  shall  be  seen  that 
righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  pillars  of  his 
throne — that  "  there  is  no  unrighteousness  with  God." 
These  questions  open  up  an  abyss  respecting  which 
man's  business  is  to  adore,  and  not  explore ;  and  to 
them,  meanwhile,  I  have  no  other  answer  than  the 
great  Apostle's,  "  Who  art  thou,  0  man !  that  repliest 
against  thy  Maker?  Shall  the  thing  made  say  to  him 
who  made  it,  why  hast  thou  made  me  thus  ?" 

But  although  the  permission  of  sin  is  a  mystery, 
the  fact  of  its  punishment  is  no  mystery  at  all  ;  for, 
while  every  answer  to  the  question,  How  did  God 
permit  sin?  leaves  us  unsatisfied,  to  my  mind  nothing 
Is  plainer  than  this,  that,  whatever  was  his  reason  for 
oermitting  it  to  exist,  God  could  not  permit  it  to  exist 
unpunished.     In  proof  of  that,  I  observe — 

I.  The  truth  of  God  requires  the  punishment  of  sin. 

**  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son  Isaac,  whom 
thou  lovest,  and  offer  him  for  a  burnt-offering  on  a 
mountain  that  I  will  tell  thee  of"  Startling  announce- 
ment!—so  startling,  that  it  is  not  possible  to  suppose 
that  the  alarmed,  amazed,  confounded  patriarch  re- 
ceived it  at  once — believed  it  without  a  dreadful 
struggle.  No;  there  never  rung  from  mailed  hand 
or  battle-axe  such  a  stunning  blow.  What  man,  or 
father,  doubts  that  it  made  Abraham  stagger,  and 
brought  him  to  his  knees?  I  think  I  hear  him  say- 
ing, "Take Isaac — take  my  son,  the  son  of  my  love, 
the  son  of  promise,  the  mii;iculous  gift  of  heaven — 
offer  Isaac  for  a  burnt-ofi'oring!  Surely  I  dream. 
What  a  dreadful  fancy  !  Did  my  ears  deceive  me? 
No :  there  was  a  voice ;  I  heard  it.     It  sounded  like 


80  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

the  voice  of  God:  could  it  be  so?  Was  it  for  thi? 
that  angels  announced  his  birth  ?  Was  it  to  be  thus 
rudely  shaken  off,  that  the  old  stock  was  made  to 
blossom,  and  this  sweet  fruit  to  grow  on  a  withered 
tree  ?  Although  this  trembling  hand  could  plunge 
the  knife  into  Isaac's  bosom,  would  it  not  be  most 
honor  to  God  to  conclude  that  some  demon,  with 
false  and  wicked  mimicry,  had  borrowed  Jehovah's 
voice  to  lure  me  into  a  foul  and  monstrous  crime,  and, 
getting  me  to  embrue  these  hands  in  Isaac's  blood,  by 
this  horrid  sacrifice  to  quench  the  light  of  heaven  and 
the  hope  of  earth — in  this  sweet  bud  to  crush  an  un- 
blown salvation  and  unborn  Saviour?"  Now,  Avhat- 
ever  room  Abraham  migrht  have  had  for  doubt — what- 

o 

ever  struggle  faith  had  with  unbelief  in  that  father's 
heart — we  have  no  room  nor  pretence  to  doubt  that, 
however  terrible  its  punishment,  God  has  threatened 
to  punish  sin,  and,  true  to  his  word,  shall  pour  out 
his  fury  on  the  sinner's  head.  Christ  is  offered ;  and 
ye  cannot  escape,  if  ye  neglect  this  great  salvation. 

Had  that  truth  been  written  only  in  one  soHtary 
passage — within  the  whole  compass  of  the  Bible  had 
there  been  but  one  line  to  that  effect — we  might  have 
succeeded  in  persuading  ourselves  that  its  sense  was 
mistaken,  and  its  terms  misunderstood.  But  is  it  so? 
Ah!  no  :  there  is  letter  upon  letter,  "line  upon  line, 
precept  upon  precept,  here  a  little  and  there  a  little." 
God  has  recorded  his  irrevocable  resolution,  not  in 
one,  but  in  a  hundred  passages ;  and  reiterated  in  a 
thousand  ways  the  awful  sentence — "  The  soul  that 
sinneth,  it  shall  die." 

Some  have  fancied  that  they  honor  God  most  when, 
sinking  all  other  attributes  in  mercy — indiscriminat- 
ing   mercy — they    represent   him    as   embracina-   thf 


god's  punitive  justice.  81 

worla  ill  nis  arms — ana  receiving  to  liis  bosom  with 
equal  affection  the  sinners  that  hate,  and  the  saints 
that  love  Him.  They  cannot  claim  originality  for  this 
idea:  its  authorship  belongs  to  the  "father  of  lies." 
Satan  said  so  before  them.  It  is  the  very  doctrine 
that  damned  this  world.  The  serpent  said  to  the  wo- 
man, "  Thou  shalt  not  surely  die."  Do  you  rest  your 
hope  of  salvation  on  such  a  baseless  fancy  ?  If  so, 
have  you  seriously  considered  in  what  aspect  this 
theory  presents  the  God  for  whose  honor  you  profess 
such  tender  regard.  We  almost  shrink  from  explain- 
ing it.  You  save  the  creature,  but  at  a  price  more 
costly  than  was  paid  for  sinners  upon  the  cross  of 
Calvary.  Is  there  something  dearer  than  life  to  me  ? 
— to  God  there  was  something  more  precious  than 
even  the  blood  of  Jesus.  I  can  part  with  my  life,  but 
not  my  honor ; — and  God  could  part  with  his  Son, 
but  not  with  his  truth.  But  let  sin  go  unpunished, 
either  in  person  or  substitute  :  this  saves  the  sinner — 
no  doubt  of  that;  but  at  what  price?  You  save  the 
creature's  life  at  the  expense  of  the  Creator's  honor. 
Your  scheme  exalts  man ;  but  far  more  than  man  is 
exalted  is  God  degraded.  By  this  scheme  no  man  is 
lost ;  but  there  is  a  greater  loss — something  more 
dwful  happens:  the  truth  of  God  is  lost ;  his  crown 
loses  its  topmost  jewel,  and  the  throne  of  the  universe 
is  shaken  to  its  foundations.  It  is  as  manifest  as  day- 
light that  God's  truth  and  your  scheme  cannot  stand 
together.  "  Liar"  stands  against  either  God  or  you ; 
and,  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  you  "  make  God  a 
liar." 

Nor  is  that  all :  my  faith  has  lost  the  very  rock  it 
stood  on,  and  stood  on — as  I  flattered  myself — stead- 
fast, immovable  ;  for,  however  awful  the  threatcnings 
4* 


82  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

in  his,  Word  may  be,  if  God  is  not  true  to  them,  what 
security  have  I,  or  an}^  man,  that  he  will  be  true  to 
its  gracious  promises  ?  The  rod  which  bends  in  one 
direction  will  prove  as  supple  in  another;  and,  since 
the  truth  of  a  Heaven  stands  upon  the  very  same 
foundation  as  the  truth  of  a  Hell — the  one  upon  the 
promise,  the  other  upon  the  threatening,  and  both  alike 
upon  the  simple  word  of  God — why,  then,  the  scheme 
which  quenches  the  fears  of  the  wicked  extinguishes 
the  hopes  of  the  just.  If  he  that  believeth  not  shall 
not  be  condemned,  farewell — a  long  and  sad  farewell 
— to  my  happy  confidence  that  he  that  believeth  shall 
be  saved.  I  cannot  consent  that  you  should  pull 
down  my  heaven,  to  build  with  its  ruins,  not  a  temple 
to  justice,  but  an  asjlum  for  crime.  Away  with  such 
a  scheme.  It  is  fatal  to  the  peace  of  God's  people.  It 
is  essentially  blasphemous  and  dishonoring  to  their 
God.  It  makes  God  a  liar.  Making  him  do  wrong, 
how  can  it  be  right  ?  making  him  untrue,  it  must  be 
itself  untrue.  We  reject  it  with  horror.  It  is  a  snare 
of  the  Evil  One ;  and  happy  should  we  be  to  think 
that  we  had  helped  any  of  his  captives  out,  and  sent 
them  singing,  as  on  wings  of  faith  they  soared  away 
to  heaven,  "  My  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the 
fowler's  snare:  the  snare  is  broken,  and  I  am  es- 
caped." 

II.  The  love  of  God  requires  that  sin  should  be 
punished. 

You  may  start  at  this.  Love  requires  punishment  ? 
Had  we  said  the  justice,  or  holiness,  or  purity  of  God, 
we,  no  doubt,  should  have  used  an  expression  less 
startling,  and  more  sure  to  command  a  read}^  assent. 
These  attributes  present  strong  positions,  within  which 


god's   rUNITIVE  JUSTICE.  83 

it  may  be  admitted  that  we  could  entrench  this  doctrine 
— impregnable  to  all  assaults.  On  that  verj^  account 
it  is  that  in  this  brief  discussion  we  pass  these  b}^,  and, 
confident  in  the  strength  of  our  cause,  select,  of  very 
purpose,  although  some  may  think  unwisely,  what 
they  deem  the  weakest  argument  and  point  cf  de- 
fence. Kow  I  find  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  af- 
fecting proofs  that  the  impenitent  and  unbelieving 
shall  not  go  unpunished,  just  in  that  tenderest  of  all 
subjects,  the  love  of  God  ;  and  I  think  that  I  could 
close  with  the  man  who  uses  this  love  to  prove  that 
sin  shall  go  unpunished;  and  having  wrested  that 
weapon  from  his  hand,  take  off  the  head  of  his  ar- 
gument with  his  own  sword.  I  say  of  this  love  of 
God,  what  David  said  of  Goliath's  sword,  "  there  is 
none  like  that — give  it  me." 

Lend  me  your  candid  attention — open  your  minds 
— and  I  think  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  convince  you, 
that  the  love  of  God — which  is  a  sevenfold  shield  to 
the  believer — not  merely  consents  to,  but  demands, 
the  condemnation,  as  it  aggravates  the  guilt,  of  the 
impenitent.  Let  me  at  once  prove  and  illustrate  the 
point  by  a  piece  of  plain  analogy  : — This  city,  nay, 
the  whole  land,  is  shaken  by  the  news  of  some  most 
cruel,  bloody,  monstrous  crime.  Fear  seizes  hold  of 
the  public  mind  ;  pale  horror  sits  on  all  men's  faces  ; 
doors  are  double  barred;  and  justice  lets  loose  the 
hounds  of  law  on  the  track  of  the  criminal.  At  length, 
to  the  relief  and  joy  of  all  honest  citizens,  he  is  caught, 
He  is  tried,  condemned,  laid  in  irons,  and  waits  but 
the  sentence  to  be  signed.  To  save  or  slay — to  hang 
or  pardon — is  now  the  question  with  him  whose  pre- 
rogative it  is  to  do  either;  and  by  what  motive  is  the 
Boyereign  impelled  to  shut  up  his  bowels  of  mercy, 


84  THE    GOSPEL   IN   KZEKIEL. 

and  sign  the  warrant  for  execution  ?  Is  it  want  o; 
pity  ?  No ;  the  pen  is  taken  with  reluctance ;  it 
trembles  in  his  hand,  and  tears  of  compassion  for  this 
guilty  wretch  drop  on  the  page  he  signs.  Now  it  is 
not  so  much  abhorrence  of  the  guilty,  as  love  of  the 
innocent,  and  regard  for  their  peace,  purity,  and  honor, 
that  dooms  this  man  to  die.  If  he  were  pardoned, 
and  his  crime  allowed  to  go  impunished,  neither 
man's  life  nor  woman's  virtue  were  safe ;  unless  this 
felon  dies,  the  peace  and  purity  of  a  thousand  happy 
families  lie  open  to  foul  attack ;  and  thus,  love  for 
those  who  have  the  best  claim  on  a  sovereign's  pro- 
tection, requires  that  the  guilty  die.  That  the  com- 
munity may  live  in  peace,  each  man  sitting  beneath 
his  own  vine  and  fig-tree — that  the  citizen  may  feel 
himself  safe  in  the  bosom  of  his  family — that  streets 
may  be  safe  to  walk  on — that  beds  may  be  safe  to  lie 
in — that  our  land  may  be  a  country  fit  to  live  in — 
crime  must  be  punished.  The  magistrate  who  would 
reward  obedience  must  punish  rebellion;  nor  can  he 
be  a  praise  and  protection  to  them  that  do  good,  but 
by  making  himself  a  terror  to  them  that  do  evil. 

There  are  scenes  of  domestic  suffering  which  pre- 
sent another,  no  less  convincing,  and  more  touching 
analogy.  I  refer  to  those  distressing  cases  where  natu- 
ral affection  yields  to  the  holiest  parental  duty ;  and 
where,  although  she  thereby  inflicts  on  her  own  bosom 
a  wound  time  never  heals,  Love  seizes  the  knife,  and, 
lest  the  canker  should  extend  to  the  other  branches, 
lops  off  some  once  pleasant  bough  from  the  family 
tree.  It  has  happened  that,  from  love  and  regard  to 
the  interest  of  his  other  children — to  save  them  from 
a  brother's  contamination — a  kind  parent  has  felt  con- 
strained to  banish  his  son,  and  forbid  him  a  dither's 


god's  punitive  justice.  85 

L  »uso.  't  is  sad  to  tliink  that  he  may  W^  lost-,  tbe 
diead  ol  that  goes  like  a  knife  into  the  heart:  yet, 
bitter  trt  h  !  painful  conclusion  !  it  is  better  that  one 
child  be  l.st  than  a  whole  family  be  lost.  These  lambs 
claim  projection  from  the  wolf;  he  must  be  driven 
forth  from  the  fold  ;  weeping  Love  herself  demands 
this  sacrifice ;  and,  just  because  it  is  most  lacerating, 
most  excruciating,  to  a  parent's  heart,  it  is  in  such  a 
case  the  highest  and  holiest  exercise  of  parental  love 
to  bar  the  doer  against  a  child.  There  have  been  pa- 
rents so  weak  end  foolish  as  to  peril  the  morals,  the 
fortunes,  the  souls  of  their  other  children,  rather  than 
punish  one  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  I  have  seen 
sin,  like  a  fever,  infect  every  member  of  the  family, 
and  vice  ferment  r.nd  spread  till  it  had  leavened  the 
whole  lump.  Divine  Love,  however,  is  no  blind  Di- 
vinity :  and  that  love  being  as  wise  as  tender,  sinners 
may  rest  assured,  that  out  of  mere  pity  to  them,  God 
will  neither  sacrifice  the  interests,  nor  peril  the  hap- 
piness of  his  people.  Love  herself — bleeding,  dying, 
redeeming  love— with  har  own  hand  will  bar  the  door 
of  heaven,  and  from  its  happy,  holy  precincts,  exclude 
all  that  could  hurt  or  defile.  Stern  words  these  !  and 
when  Love  puts  on  her  armor,  to  fight  against  him, 
what  hope  for  the  man  who  has  compelled  her  to  be 
his  enemy?  Having  armed  Love  against  you,  Avhere 
now  are  you  flying  ?  Look  at  this  scene  of  judgment. 
He  who  died  on  the  cross  occupies  the  throne.  Lovo 
incarnate  presides  at  that  august  tribunal.  The  print 
of  the  nail  is  on  the  very  hand  which  waves  away  the 
lost  into  perdition.  The  voice  which  so  often  invited 
the  impenitent  is  that  which  now  condemns  and  com- 
mands them  to  depart.  Calmly,  serenely  anticipating 
that  diij,  Faith  says,  "  It  is  God  that  justifieth  ;  who 


S()  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

is'he  that  shall  condemn?"  But  oh  !  if  Jesus  Christ 
condemn,  who  shall  justify?  If  He  spare  not,  who 
shall  save?  From  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb  which  im- 
penitence has  changed  into  the  wrath  of  a  Lion,  des- 
pair turns  away  a  face  covered  with  the  blackness  of 
darkness,  to  cry  as  she  wrings  her  hands,  "The  great 
day  of  his  wrath  is  come,  and  who  shall  be  alle  to 
stand  ?"  If  the  Lamb  of  God — if  the  Love  of  God  be 
our  adversarj^,  our  case  is  desperate.  Oh  1  take  warn- 
ing in  Time,  that  you  be  not  lost  for  Eternity.  ''  Kiss 
the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way, 
when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little."  "  Blessed  are 
all  they  that  put  their  trust  in  him." 

III.  Unless  sin  is  to  be  awfully  punished,  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture  appears  extravagant. 

Next  to  the  suffering  is  the  sight  of  pain  to  a  man 
of  tender  feelings:  nor,  but  for  your  good,  would  I 
ask  any  one  to  cast  even  a  hurried  glance  on  those 
appalling  pictures  which  the  Bible  reveals.  But  if 
men,  for  the  mere  gratification  of  taste — if  the  lovers 
of  the  fine  arts — crowd  to  some  picture  of  the  damned 
• — a  scene  of  the  last  Judgment  painted  by  a  master's 
hand,  where  hideous  demons  torment  shrieking  vic- 
tims, and  drag  the  seven  deadly  Sins  down  into  the 
gulf  of  fire — when,  as  far  as  the  heavens  do  the  earth, 
the  preacher's  object  transcends  the  painter's,  and  the 
salvation  of  souls  the  gratification  of  taste — when  my 
object  is  not  to  please  your  fancy,  but  profit  your 
Bouls — shall  that  be  condemned  in  the  pulpit  which  is 
so  much  applauded  in  the  painting?  Where  the 
highest  interests  are  at  stake,  shall  I  be  judged  harsh, 
and  showing  no  regard  to  feeling  and  propriety,  be- 
cause I  ask  you  to  turn  your  eyes  on  tliis  spectacle — 


god's   PUI^ITIVE   JUSTICE.  87 

on  a  worm  that  never  dieth^  and  this  fire  that  is  never 
quenched?  Oh  !  let  me  beseech,  implore  you,  to  read 
with  tears  and  prayers  those  passages  of  Scripture  that 
reveal  the  miseries  of  the  lost.  Blot  not  from  your 
minds  what  you  cannot  blot  out  of  the  Book  of  God. 

What  is  so  sad — what  so  strongly  and  sadly  illus- 
trates the  wicked  deceitfulness  of  this  heart — as  the 
entertainment  which  men  extract  from  the  solemnities 
of  judgment?  Only  think  of  those,  who  turn  away 
with  ill-disguised  distaste  from  the  very  mention  of 
such  subjects  in  the  house  of  God,  crowding  a  brilliant 
saloon  to  hear  this  same  judgment  set  to  music,  and 
listen  with  loud  and  rapturous  applauses  to  the  hired 
musicians,  who  give  a  bold  (shall  I  say  profane)  imi- 
tation of  the  trumpet  that  rends  the  grave,  of  the 
thunders  that  announce  the  Judge,  the  song  of  adoring 
angels,  the  shouts  of  ransomed  saints,  and — for  any 
thing  I  know — the  awful  shrieks  of  the  damned! 
Think  of  this ;  think  of  criminals  leaving  the  bar  to 
set  their  sentence  to  music !  When  their  life  is  a 
matter  of  hours,  and  its  few  remaining  sands  should 
be  given  to  prayer  and  God's  book  of  mercy,  think 
of  men,  shut  up  in  a  cell,  and  drawing  on  its  walls  a 
wretched  caricature  of  their  judge,  the  gallows,  the 
mighty  crowd,  the  victim  turning  round  on  his  cord, 
with  eyeballs  that  protrude  beneath  the  cap,  and 
limbs  convulsed  in  the  very  agony  of  death  I 

The  sufferings  and  misery  which  awaits  the  impeni- 
tent and  unbelieving,  God  has  painted  in  most  appall- 
ing colors.  To  save  us  from  them,  his  Son  left  the 
heavens  and  died  on  a  cross.  When  Paul  thought  of 
these,  he  wept  like  a  woman.  A  dauntless  man,  who 
shook  his  chain  in  the  face  of  kings — whose  spirit  no 
sufferings  could  subdue,  and  whose  heart  no  dangers 


88  THE   GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

could  appall — who  stood  as  unmoved  amid  a  thousand 
perils  as  ever  rock  amid  a  thousand  billows — he  could 
not  contemplate  these  without  the  deepest  emotion  ; 
his  tears  fell  fast  and  thick  upon  the  page  where  he 
wrote,  ''of  whom  I  have  told  you  often,  and  now  tell 
you  even  weeping,  whose  god  is  their  belly,  whose 
end  is  destruction." 

What  horror  did  David  feel  at  the  sight  and  fate  of 
sinners?  With  his  blind  face  turned  up  to  heaven, 
you  see  a  man  approach  the  edge  of  an  awful  pre- 
cipice :  every  step  brings  him  nearer — still  nearer, 
the  brink.  Xow  he  reaches  it:  he  stands  on  the 
grassy  edge.  Oh  for  an  arm  to  reach  him — for  a 
voice  to  warn  him — for  a  blow  to  send  him  staggering 
back  upon  the  ground !  But  he  has  lifted  his  foot ; 
it  is  projected  beyond  the  brink ;  another  moment,  a 
breath  of  wind,  the  least  change  of  balance,  and  he  is 
whirling  twenty  fathoms  down.  You  stop  your  ears, 
close  3^our  eyes,  turn  away  your  head  ;  horror  has 
taken  hold  of  you.  And  such  were  David's  feelings 
when  he  contemplated  the  sins  and  fate  of  the  wicked: 
"  Horror  hath  taken  hold  upon  me,  because  of  the 
wicked  that  forsake  thy  law :  rivers  of  water  run 
down  mine  eyes,  because  they  keep  not  thy  law,  0 
God."  The  wrath  of  God  is  the  key  to  David's 
sorrow,  to  an  Apostle's  tears,  to  the  bloody  mysteries 
of  the  Cross.  That  was  the  necessity  which  drew  it 
Saviour  down.  Had  that  wrath  been  tolerable  or 
terminable,  the  sword  of  Justice  had  never  been  dyed 
with  the  blood,  nor  sheathed  in  the  body  of  such  a 
noble  victim  ;  and  if  there  is  a  need  be  for  the  lightest 
cross  that  lies  on  a  good  man's  lot,  how  great  the 
necessity  for  that  upon  which  the  Saviour  died! 
God  is  not  willing  that  you  should  perish,  and  by 


god's   rUNITIVE   JUSTICE.  89 

these  terrors  of  the  Lord  we  would  persuade  you. 
Meditate  on  these  words:  pray  over  them — "Woe  to 
the  man  that  striveth  with  his  Maker!"  "Who  can 
lie  down  in  everlasting  burnings?"  "The  wicked 
shall  be  cast  into  hell,  and  all  the  nations  that  forget 
God." 

Eather  than  that  you  should  perish,  I  would  even 
thus  persuade  you.  Oh!  there  are  terrors  enough  in 
the  Bible  to  make  a  man's  hair  stand  on  end.  Surely, 
were  God  but  for  one  moment  to  let  this  world  hear 
the  weeping  and  wail  of  the  lost,  that  sound,  more 
terrible  than  Egypt's  midnight  cry,  would  rouse  the 
student  at  his  books,  arrest  the  foot  of  dancer  in  the 
ball,  stop  armies  in  the  very  fury  of  the  fight,  and, 
calling  a  sleeping  world  from  their  beds,  would  bend 
the  most  stubborn  knees,  and  extort  from  all  the  one 
loud  cry,  "Lord,  save  me,  I  perish  ! ''  Still  it  is  not 
terror  which  is  the  mighty  power  of  God.  The 
Gospel,  like  most  medicines  for  the  body,  is  of  a  com- 
pound nature ;  but,  whatever  else  enters  into  its  com- 
position, its  curative  element  is  love.  No  man  yet 
was  ever  driven  to  heaven  :  he  must  be  drawn  to  it; 
and  I  wish  to  draw  you.  The  Gospel  has  terror  in  it, 
no  doubt.  But  it  is  like  our  atmosphere — occasionally 
riven  by  the  thunder,  and  illuminated  by  the  fatal 
flash — it  is  at  times  the  path  of  the  stealthy  pesti- 
lence— charged  with  elements  of  destruction,  and 
impregnated  with  the  seeds  of  disease;  but  how 
much  more  is  not  a  great  magazine  of  health,  filled 
with  the  most  harmonious  sounds,  fragrant  with  the 
sweetest  odors,  hung  with  golden  drapery,  the  path- 
way of  sunbeams,  the  womb  of  showers,  the  feeder  of 
flowing  streams,  fall  of  God's  goodness,  and  the 
fountain  of  all  Earth's  life!     And,  just  as  in   that 


90  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

atmosphere,  which  God  has  VvTapped  round  this 
world,  there  is  much  more  health  than  sickness,  much 
more  food  than  famine,  much  more  life  than  death,  so 
in  the  Bible  there  is  much  more  love  than  terror. 

The  terror  is  not  only  subordinate  to  love,  but 
subservient  to  it.  God,  indeed,  tells  us  of  hell,  but 
it  is  to  persuade  us  to  go  to  heaven  ;  and,  as  a  skillful 
painter  fills  the  background  of  his  picture  with  his 
darker  colors,  God  puts  in  the  smoke  of  torment  and 
the  black  clouds  of  Sinai,  to  give  brighter  prominence 
to  Jesus,  the  cross  of  Calvary,  and  his  love  to  the 
chief  of  sinners.  His  voice  of  terror  is  like  the  scream 
of  the  mother  bird  when  the  hawk  is  in  the  sky- 
She  alarms  her  brood  that  they  may  run  and  hide 
beneath  her  feathers  ;  and  as  1  believe  that  God  had 
left  that  mother  dumb  unless  he  had  given  her  wings 
to  cover  her  little  ones,  I  am  sure  that  He,  who  is 
very  "pitiful/'  and  has  no  pleasure  in  any  creature's 
pain,  had  never  turned  our  eyes  to  the  horrible  gulf 
unless  for  the  voice  that  cries,  "Deliver  from  going 
down  to  the  pit,  for  I  have  found  a  ransom."  We 
had  never  heard  of  sin  had  there  been  no  Saviour; 
nor  of  hell  had  there  been  no  heaven.  "  Sufficient 
for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof;"  and  never  had  Bible 
light  been  flashed  before  the  eyes  of  the  sleeping 
felon  to  wake  him  from  his  happy  dream,  but  that  he 
might  see  the  smiling  form  of  Mercy,  and  hear  her, 
as  she  says  with  pointing  finger,  "Behold,  I  have  set 
before  thee  an  open  door." 


foil's  Hotibe  in  ^iilbutiun. 

I  do  this  for  mine  holy  name's  sake. — Ezekiel  xxxvl  22. 

There  is  a  land  lying  beneath  a  burning  sky,  where 
tlie  fields  are  seldom  screened  by  a  cloud,  and  almost 
never  refreshed  by  a  shower ;  and  yet  Egypt — for  it 
is  of  it  I  speak — is  as  remarkable  for  the  fertile  char- 
acter of  its  soil  as  for  the  hoar  antiquity  of  its  history. 
At  least,  it  was  so  in  days  of  old,  when  hungry  nations 
ifVere  fed  by  its  harvests,  and  its  fields  were  the  gran- 
aries of  ancient  Rome.  Powers  so  prolific  Egypt  owed 
to  the  Nile — that  river  whose  associations  carry  us  uj)- 
ward  to  the  beginning  of  all  human  history — upon 
whose  banks,  in  the  sepulchers  of  forgotten  kings, 
stand  the  proudest  monuments  of  human  vanity — a 
river,  the  very  name  of  which  recalls  some  of  the 
grandest  scenes  that  have  been  acted  on  the  stage  of 
time.  The  Nile  is  Egypt ;  in  the  course  of  long  ages 
it  has  deposited  her  soil,  and  by  an  annual  overflow  it 
maintains  her  fertility.  The  limits  of  that  flood  are 
the  limits  of  life  and  verdure ;  and  without  her  Nile 
— that  great  artery  of  vegetable  life — she  would  be 
another  Sahara — a  vast  expanse  of  burning  and  bar- 
ren sands.  Humbled  as  she  now  is,  let  this  gift  of 
heaven  be  improved,  as  of  old,  by  the  skill  and  indus- 
try of  her  inhabitants,  and,  vivified  by  a  free  and 
Christian  government,  Egypt  would  rise  from  the 
sepulchers  of  her  kings,  and  take  a  place  once  more 
in  the  van  of  nations.     The  Truth  shall  prove  her  re- 


92  THK    OOSPKL    IX    EZEKIKL. 

surreetion.  The  Gospel  shall  restore  her  to  life  and 
prosperity  ;  and  the  day  is  comip.g  when  that  land — 
rich  now  only  in  memories  of  the  past,  fi\mous  r.ow 
only  for  her  temples  and  gods,  lier  pyramids  and 
dusty  tombs,  for  her  throne  of  the  Pharaohs,  for  her 
saered  stream,  for  the  wonders  God  wrought  of  old  in 
the  tield  of  Zoan,  and,  most  dear  above  all  to  Chris- 
tian hearts,  for  the  asylum  she  opened  to  an  hifant 
S;n-iour — shall  fiillill  a  noble  destiny.  Her  day  ap- 
proaches. These  prophecies  reg^irding  her  wait  their 
accomplishment — '*The  Lord  shall  be  known  in 
Egypt  ;'■  and,  '*  Blessed  be  Egypt,  my  people." 

From  the  earliest  ages  the  source  of  this  flimous 
river  was  regarded  with  intensest  interest.  Whence 
it  sprung,  and  how  its  annual  flood  was  swelled,  were 
the  subjects  of  eager  but  ungratified  curiosity.  One 
tnweler  after  another  had  attempted  to  reach  its 
cradle,  and  had  tailed  or  tallen  in  the  attempt ;  and 
when — forcing  his  way  upwards  through  many  diffi- 
culties, and  traveling  along  its  banks,  from  where, 
by  many  mouths,  it  disgorged  its  waters  into  the  sea, 
till  its  ample  volume  had  shrunk  into  the  narrowness 
of  a  mountain  stream*— our  hardy  countryman  at 
length  stood  beside  the  long  sought  for  fountain,  he 
won  for  himself,  by  the  achievement,  an  immortal 
reputation.  I  can  fancy  the  pride  with  which,  lirst 
of  travelers,  he  looked  on  that  mysterious  fountain. 
How  sweet  its  waters  tasted !  How  he  enjoyed  his 
triumph,  as  he  sat  down  by  the  cradle  of  a  river^ 
which  had  fed  the  millions  of  successive  generritions, 
and  in  days  long  gone  by  had  saved  in  famine  the 
race  which  gave  a  Redeemer  to  the  world ! 

Xow,  what  tliis  river,  which  turns  barren  sands 
into  the  richest  soil,  is  to  Egypt,  the  Gospel  of  Jesua 


god's  motive  IK  SALVATION.  i^6 

Chiist  is  to  the  world.  It  flows  through  the  earth, 
the  "  river  of  the  waters  of  life."  Whether  thev  now 
bloom  in  heaven,  or  are  still  in  the  nurseries  of  earth, 
every  plant  of  grace  owes  to  the  Gospel  its  existence 
and  renov.n.  Observe,  however,  that — although  the 
parent  of  those  harvests  which  angels  shall  reap  and 
the  heavens  receive — no  more  in  the  case  of  the  Gos- 
pel than  of  the  Xile  does  the  bounty  of  heaven  sus 
pond  or  supersede  human  exertions.  Xo ;  but  on 
earth's  improvement  of  heaven's  bounty  the  blessings 
of  both  are  commonly  suspended.  "  The  h^nd  of  the 
diligent  maketh  rich :"  and  as  it  is  according  to  the 
industry  or  indolence  of  the  inhabitants,  that  the  Xile 
flows  through  barren  sands,  or  waters  smiling  fields, 
so  is  it  with  the  Gospel.  It  is  a  blessing  only  where 
it  is  sedulously  and  prayerfully  improved,  and  when, 
like  the  overflowings  of  the  Xile,  which  are  conducted 
along  their  channels  to  irrigate  its  shores,  those  living 
waters,  through  the  use  of  means,  are  turned  on  our 
hearts  and  habits.  "Not  the  hearers  of  the  law  are 
just  before  God,  but  the  doers  of  the  law  shall  be  jus- 
tified." 

Xow,  if  it  is  interesting  to  trace  a  Xile  or  Amazon 
to  its  source,  how  much  more  interesting  to  a  Christian 
to  explore  the  stream  of  eternal  life,  and  trace  it  up- 
ward till  we  have  reached  the  fountain.  Bruce  dis- 
covered— or  thought  he  had  discovered — the  springs 
of  Egypt's  river  :  he  found  them  away  among  cloud- 
capped  mountains,  at  an  elevation  of  many  thousand 
feet  above  the  plains  they  watered.  Great  men  have 
been  born  in  humble  circumstances ;  but  all  great 
rivers  boast  of  their  lofty  descent.  It  is  when  the 
traveler  has  left  smiling  valleys  far  beneath  him,  and 
toiling  along  rugged  glens,  and,  pressing  through  deep 


9-1  THE   GOSPEL   IN    KZEEIEL. 

mountain  gorges,  he  at  length  reaches  the  chill  shores 
of  an  icy  sea,  that  he  stands  at  the  source  of  the  Alpine 
river,  which,  cold  as  the  snows  that  feed  it,  and  a  full 
grown  stream  at  its  birth,  rushes  out  from  the  caverns 
of  the  hollowed  glacier.  But  with  that  lofty  birth 
place  it  is  only  a  humble  image  of  salvation.  How 
high  its  source  !  "  He  show^ed  me  a  pure  river  of  wa 
ter  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceding  out  of  the  thront 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb."  The  stream  of  mercy  flows 
from  the  throne  of  the  Eternal ;  and  here  we  seem  to 
stand  by  its  mysterious  fountain  :  in  contemplating 
the  words  of  the  text,  we  look  upon  its  spring — "  I  do 
this  for  mine  holy  name's  sake." 

In  now  entering  on  the  question,  What  moved  God 
to  save  man?  let  us — 

I.  Attend  to  the  expression,  "my  name's  sake." 
This  is  a  most  comprehensive  term.  It  indicates 
much  more  than  what,  in  common  language,  is  in 
volved  in  a  name.  No  doubt  a  name  may  sometimes 
convey  much  meaning.  "  Adam,"  for  instance,  means 
"clay;"  made  of  earth,  he  receives  a  name  that  re- 
minds him  of  his  origin.  "  Isaac,"  again,  means 
"  laughter  ;"  and  in  her  son's  name  God  rebuked  Sa- 
rah for  the  merriment  with  which,  when  listening  with 
a  woman's  curiosity  behind  the  door,  she  heard  of  her 
coming  child,  and  of  fruit  growing  on  such  an  old 
and  withered  stock  as  she  was.  "Moses,"  again, 
means  "  drawn  from  the  water ;"  and  his  name  re- 
minded him^  who  was  to  deliver  others,  how  he  him- 
self had  been  delivered  from  death.  And  in  the  name 
"  Jesus,"  our  Lord  received  a  name  that  revealed  his 
office  and  anticipated  his  work — the  angel  said, 
"  Thou  shalt  call  his  nam<a  Jesus,  for  he  shall  save  his 


95 

people  from  their  sins."  Commonl}^,  however,  a  man's 
name  gives  no  idea  of  his  properties,  character,  his- 
tory, works,  or  life,  and  is  nothing  more  than  an  ap- 
pellation which  he  receives  in  infancy,  and  receives — 
since  the  flower  is  still  in  the  bud — before  his  fortune 
can  be  told,  or  his  character  even  guessed  at.  "  What's 
in  a  name?"  Its  chief  end  is  just  to  prevent  confu- 
felon,  and  distinguish  one  person  from  another. 

The  name  of  God,  however,  as  employed  by  the 
sacred  writers,  has  many  and  most  important  mean- 
ings. In  the  20th  Psalm,  for  instance,  it  embraces  all 
the  attributes  of  the  Godhead.  "  The  name  of  the 
God  of  Jacob  defend  thee  ;"  that  is — if  paraphrased — 
may  his  arms  be  around  thee ;  may  his  wisdom  guide 
thee  ;  may  his  power  support  thee  ;  the  bounty  of 
God  supply  thy  wants  ;  the  mercy  of  God  forgive  thy 
sins ;  the  shield  of  heaven  be  over,  and  all  its  bless- 
ings on  thee.  In  the  days  of  miracles,  again,  the 
name  of  Jesus  carried  with  it  the  idea  of  his  authority, 
and  of  the  efficacy  of  his  power.  Uttered  by  the  lips 
of  faith,  that  name  was  a  word  of  resistless  might.  It 
healed  disease,  shed  light  on  darkness,  and  breathed 
life  into  cold  death  ;  it  mastered  devils,  controlled  the 
powers  of  hell,  and  commanded  into  immediate  obedi- 
ence the  rudest  elements  of  nature.  Like  Pharaoh's 
signet  on  Joseph's  hand,  he  who  used  that  name  in 
faith,  was  for  the  time  gifted  with  his  Master's  power; 
whatever  he  loosed  on  earth  v/as  loosed  in  heaven ; 
and  whatever  he  bound  on  earth,  was  bound  in  heaven. 
Standing  over  a  cripple — one  impotent  from  hia 
mother's  womb — Peter  looked  on  his  deformity,  and 
said,  ''  In  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  rise  up  and 
walk."  And,  lo !  he  who  had  never  stood  erect  till 
now,  bounded  from  the  earth,  and,  in  the  joyful  play 


96  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

01  new-born  faculties,  walking,  leaping,  dancing,  sing- 
ing, he  ushered  the  Apostles  into  the  astonished  tem- 
ple. Powerful,  lilve  prayer,  or  any  other  means  of 
grace,  as  was  this  name  when  used  by  faith,  yet  on 
the  lips  of  the  unbelieving  no  name  more  useless; 
like  a  residuum  from  which  the  spirit  had  been  evap- 
orated, or  a  body  bereft  of  life,  it  possessed  no  virtue 
or  power  at  all.  There  was  no  charm  in  the  mere 
name  of  Jesus,  either  to  pour  light  on  a  blind  man's 
eyeball,  or  restore  vigor  to  a  withered  limb.  See  how 
Sceva's  seven  sons  learn  that  to  their  cost !  Profiming 
this  holy  name,  and  employing  it  in  their  arts  of 
witchcraft,  they  use  it  to  cast  out  a  devil ;  and — 
themselves  Satan's  servants— they  find  that  ''Beelze- 
bub casts  not  out  devils."  '' Jesu's  I  know,  and  Paul  I 
know,"  says  the  Evil  One,  "but  who  are  3'e?"  Hell 
disowns  their  authority  ;  the  Demon  defies  them  ;  he 
leaps  on  them  with  the  fury  of  a  savage  beast ;  and — 
theirs  the  fate  of  the  engineer  who  is  hoised  on  his 
own  petard — they  are  driven  oil',  disgraced  and 
wounded,  from  the  field. 

Again,  in  Micah,  iv.  5,  where  it  is  said,  "  We  will 
walk  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  the  expression  assumes 
a  new  meaning,  and  indicates  the  laws,  statutes,  and 
4  commandments  of  God.  Again,  in  the  beautiful  and 
blessed  promise,  "In  all  places  where  I  record  my 
na!ne,  there  will  I  come  unto  thee  and  bless  thee," 
the  expression  bears  yet  another  meaning:  it  stands' 
for  God's  ordinances  and  worship — rearing,  as  it 
were,  by  the  hands  of  faith,  a  holy  temple  out  of  the 
rudest  edifice,  and  converting  into  heaven-consecrated 
churches  those  rocky  fastnesses  and  lonely  moors 
where  our  fathers  worshiped  in  the  dark  days  of 
old.     Contenting  ourselves  with  these  illustrations  of 


god's  motive  in  salvation.  97 

the  various  meanings  of  this  expression  in  Scripture, 
I  now  remark,  that  here  the  "  name"  of  God  compre- 
hends every  thing,  which  directly  or  remotely  affects 
the  divine  honor  and  glory  ;  whatever  touches,  to  use 
the  words  of  our  catechism,  "His  titles,  attributes, 
ordinances,  word,  or  works ;  or  any  thing  whereby 
God  maketh  himself  known." 

ir.  We  are  to  understand  that  the  motive  which 
ivioved  God  to  save  man  was  regard  to  his  own  glory. 

"  Where  is  boasting  then?"  we  may  ask  with  the 
Apostle,  and  leave  him  to  answer,  "it  is  excluded." 
If  salvation  is  not  of  merit,  but  of  mercy — not  of 
earth,  but  heaven — not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of 
the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God" — "Not 
by  might  nor  by  power,  but  my  Spirit,  saitli  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,"  it  is  beyond  all  doubt  "excluded." 
Grace  glorifies  m.an,  no  doubt;  but  for  what  purpose? 
that  he  may  glorify  God.  It  saves  man,  but  saves 
him  that  he  may  sing,  not  his  own  praises,  but  a 
Saviour's.  It  exalts  man,  but  exalts  him,  that,  like 
an  exhalation,  sun-drawn  from  the  ground,  and  raised 
to  heaven,  each  of  us  may  form  a  sparkling  drop  in 
the  bow,  which  encircles  the  head  that  God  crowns 
with  glory,  and  man  once  crowned  witli  thorns. 
Even  our  Lord  himself,  although  in  a  sense  the 
"fellow"  of  his  Father,  and  reckoning  it  no  robbery 
to  make  himself  equal  with  God,  kept  his  eye  steadily 
on  that  lofty  mark.  His  Father's,  not  his  own  glory, 
was  the  burden  of  Jesus'  prayers  and  the  end  of  Jesus' 
sufferings:  born  for  it  in  a  stable,  he  bled  for  it  on  a 
cross,  and  was  burled  for  it  in  a  sepuleher.  When, 
on  the  solemn  eve  of  his  last  and  awful  sufferings, 
our  champion  buckled  on  his  armor  for  the  closing 

5 


93  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

struggle,  ere  lie  joined  battle  with  men,  witli  death, 
and  with  him  that  had  the  powder  of  death,  that  is,  the 
devil,  was  not  this  his  prayer — "  Father,  glorify  thy 
Son,  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee?"  Dutiful 
Son  I  Pattern  to  all  children  of  filial  piety  !  Thou 
didst  forget  thine  own  sufferings  in  a  mother's ;  and 
was  more  concerned  for  thy  Father's  honor  than  thine 
own. 

This  doctrine,  that  God  saves  men  for  his  own 
glory,  is  a  grand  and  very  precious  truth  ;  yet  there 
is  a  way  of  stating  it  which  seems  as  offensive  as  it  is 
unscriptural.  Concave  mirrors  magnify  the  features 
nearest  to  them  into  undue  and  monstrous  size ;  and 
in  common  mirrors,  ill  cast  and  of  uneven  surface, 
the  most  beautiful  face  is  distorted  into  deformity. 
And,  as  if  their  minds  were  of  such  a  cast  and  char- 
acter, there  are  some  good  men  who,  not  exhibiting 
Bible  truth  in  its  proper  harmony  and  proportions, 
represent  Jesus  Christ  in  this  matter  of  salvation  as 
affected  by  no  motive  Avhatever  but  a  regard  to  his 
Father's  glory,  and  even  God  himself  as  moved  only 
by  respect  to  his  own.  Excluding  from  their  view 
the  commiseration  and  love  of  God,  or  reducing 
these  into  very  shrunk  dimensions,  they  magnify  one 
doctrine  at  the  expense  of  another,  and,  indeed,  go  to 
sever  some  of  the  most  sacred  and  tender  ties  which 
bind  a  believer  to  his  God.  Now,  it  appears  to  us 
that  this  ill-proportioned  theology — the  doctrine  that 
the  only  motive  in  redemption  was  a  regard  to  God's 
glory — receives  no  countenance  from  the  Bible.  Does 
not  God  "  pity  us,  as  a  flither  pitieth  his  children?" 
Taught  to  address  Him  by  the  endearing  appellation 
of  Father,  Oh  what  affection,  love,  and  loving- kind- 
ness, are  expressed  in  that  tender  term  I     And  if,  on 


99 

seeing  some  earthly  father,  whom  a  child's  scream 
has  reached  and  roused,  rush  up  the  blazing  stairs,  or 
leap  into  the  boiling  flood,  it  were  wrong,  it  were 
cruel,  it  were  a  shame,  to  suspect  him  of  being  des- 
titute of  affection — of  being  moved  to  this  noble  act 
by  no  other  motive  than  a  regard  to  his  own  honor — 
and  by  no  other  voice  than  the  calm  command  of 
duty — how  much  more  wrong  were  it  to  harbor  such 
suspicions  of  "  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven."' 

I  know  that  we  should  approach  so  high  a  theme 
with  the  greatest  reverence,  and  that  it  becomes  us  to 
speak  on  such  a  subject,  and,  indeed,  on  any  thing 
that  touches  the  secret  movements  of  the  Divine 
mind,  with  most  profound  humility.  Yet,  reasoning 
from  the  form  of  the  shadow  to  the  object  which 
projects  it — from  man  to  God — I  would  venture  to 
say,  that  it  is  with  Him  as  with  us,  when  we  are 
moved  to  a  single  action  by  the  united  influence  of 
various  motives.  To  borrovr  an  example  from  the 
place  I  fill: — The  minister,  worthy  of  his  office, 
appears  before  his  assembled  people  to  preach ;  and, 
in  doing  so,  he  is  moved  by  a  variety  of  motives. 
Love  to  God,  love  to  Jesus,  love  to  sinners,  love  to 
saints,  a  regard  to  God's  glory,  and  regard  to  man's 
good :  these,  like  the  air,  water,  light,  heat,  electricity, 
gravitation,  which  act  together  in  the  process  of  vege- 
tation, may  all  combine  to  form  one  sermon.  They 
are  present,  and  act  not  as  conflicting  but  concur- 
ring motives  in  the  preacher's  breast.  This  differ 
ence,  however,  there  always  is  between  us  and  God, 
that  although  our  motives — like  the  Khone,  which  is 
formed  of  two  rivers,  the  one  pure  as  the  sky  above 
it,  the  other  turbid  and  discolored — are  ever  mixtures 
of  good  and  evil,  all  the  emotions  of  the  Divine  mind, 


100  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

all  the  influences  that  move  God  to  action,  are  of  tho 
purest  nature. 

God  cherishes,  indeed,  such  respect  to  his  own 
glory,  that,  had  the  salvation  of  the  world  been  in- 
compatible with  that — this  world  had  been  left  to 
perish.  Dreadful  thought!  How  should  w^e  adore 
and  extol  the  wisdom  which  discovered  a  way  to  har- 
monize the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  men.  He 
was  moved  by  regard  to  both.  It  is  an  imperfect 
vision  that  sees  but  one  motive.  This  lofty  subject 
resembles  those  binary  stars  which  look  to  ther  naked 
eye  as  but  one,  but  wdiich,  brought  into  the  field  of 
the  telescope,  resolve  themselves  into  two  orbs,  rolling 
in  their  brightness  and  beauty  around  a  common 
center.  Blessed  be  his  holy  name!  "He  so  loved 
the  world,  that  He  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  on  Him  should  not  perish,  but 
should  have  everlasting  life."  "He  commendeth  his 
love  to  us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ 
died  for  ns."  Never,  therefore,  let  us  exalt  this  doc- 
trine of  the  divine  glory,  at  the  expense  of  the  divine 
love.  God's  love  to  sinners  is  his  mightiest,  his 
heart-softening  argument;  and  it  were  doing  Him,  his 
gospel,  and  our  own  souls  great  injustice,  if  we  should 
overlook  the  love  that  gives  Divinity  its  name,  and 
which,  sending  in  his  Son  a  Saviour  from  the  Father's 
bosom,  was  eulogized  by  an  Apostle  as  possessed  of  a 
*4ieight,  and  depth,  and  breadtli,  and  length,  which 
passeth  knowledge." 

III.  Observe,  that  in  saving  man  for  his  "holy 
name's  sake,"  or  for  his  own  honor  and  glorj^,  God 
exhibits  the  mevzj,  holiness,  love,  and  other  attributes 
of  the  Godhead. 


god's  motive  in  salvation.  101 

The  truth  is,  that  God  saves  man  for  much  the  same 
reasons  as  at  first  he  made  him.  Why  did  God  make 
man?  What  moved  God  to  make  him?  The  ball 
rolls  forward  over  the  ground,  and  the  ship  moves  on- 
ward through  the  sea,  by  virtue  of  an  external  force — 
the  hand  projects  the  one,  and  the  wind,  caught  in  her 
sails,  impels  the  other.  But  no  foreign  agent  imparted 
an  impulse  to  creating  power;  nor  did  any  one  com- 
mand or  compel  God  to  make  man.  It  is  his  prerog* 
ative  to  command — the  creature's  duty  to  obey.  Why, 
then,  did  He  make  man  ?  Did  He  need  to  make  him  ? 
Was  it  with  Him  as  with  some  lordly  master,  who 
depends  for  his  comfort  on  his  servants? — as  with  a 
king,  whose  glory  lies  in  the  numbers  of  his  courtiers, 
or  the  brilliancy  of  his  court? — as  with  the  greatest 
general,  who  owes  his  victories  to  the  bravery  of  his 
soldiers,  and  who,  whatever  his  military  skill,  would 
win  no  battles  and  wear  no  laurels  without  an  army 
at  his  back?  Assuredly  not.  "Our  goodness  ex- 
tendeth  not  to  Thee;"  our  wealth  makes  God  no 
richer,  our  praise  makes  Him  no  happier.  "  Hear,  O 
my  people,  and  I  will  speak.  I  will  take  no  bullock 
out  of  thy  house,  or  he-goat  out  of  thy  fold  ;  for  every 
beast  of  the  forest  is  mine,  and  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills.  I  know  all  the  fowls  of  the  mountains 
and  the  wild  beasts  of  the  field  are  mine.  If  I  were 
hungr}^,  I  would  not  tell  thee,  for  the  world  is  mine, 
and  the  fullness  thereof." 

What  moved  God,  then,  to  make  man  ?  or,  to  en- 
large the  question  so  as  to  embrace  creation,  wlien 
there  was  neither  world  rolling,  nor  sun  shining,  nor 
angel  singing — when  there  was  neither  life  nor  death, 
nor  birth  nor  burial,  nor  sight  nor  sound,  no  wave  of 
ocean  breaking,  no  wing  of  angel  moving — when,  as 


102  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

in  a  past  eternity,  God  dwelt  alone  in  silent,  solemn, 
awful,  but  bappy  solitude,  what  moved  Him  to  make 
creatures  at  all,  or  with  these  worlds,  suns  and  systems, 
to  garnish  the  heavens,  and  people  an  empty  universe? 
These  are  the  deep  things  of  God,  and  it  becomes  finite 
and  fallible  minds  such  as  ours  to  approach  them 
modestly.  If  tne  fabric  of  nature,  if  the  machine  of 
Providence,  with  its  wheels  rolling  within  wheels  in 
many  and  complicated  parts — if  these,  and  the  scheme 
of  redemption,  are  full  of  inscrutable  mysteries — how 
much  more  the  vast  mind  that  designed  find  executed 
them!  The  meanest  of  his  works  are  full  of  Himself, 
and  of  mysteries  which,  when  apprehended,  are  not 
comprehended.  If  I  adore  divinity  in  the  humble 
daisy  ;  and  if  in  the  creature,  that  lives  for  a  day  and 
dances  in  a  sunbeam,  I  see  the  wisdom  that  made  the 
sun — how  can  I  lay  aside  the  telescope  by  which  I 
have  held  communion  with  the  distant  heavens,  or  the 
microscope  that  reveals  a  world  of  wonders  in  one 
di'op  of  water,  without  concluding  that,  if  the  works 
of  God  are  so  wonderful,  how  much  more  wonderful 
his  own  infinite  and  eternal  mind? 

"  These  are  thy  glorious  works,  Parent  of  good, 
Almighty  1  thine  this  universal  frame, 
Thus  wondrous  fair :  thyself  how  wondrous  then 
Unspeakable  I  who  sitt'st  above  these  heavens, 
To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen 
In  these  thy  lowest  works ;  yet  these  declare 
Thy  goodness  beyond  thought,  and  power  divine." 

By  turning  the  eye  inward,  however,  on  our  own 
mmd,  we  can  form  some  conception  of  the  divine 
mind,  even  as  a  captive  child,  born  and  retained  in  a 
dark  dungeon,  may  learn  some  notion  of  the  sun  from 
the  beam  that,  streaming  through  a  chink  of  the  riven 


god's  motive  in  salvation.  103 

wall,  trave.s  the  gray  lonely  floor;  or  even  as,  al- 
tliough  I  had  never  walked  its  pebbly  shore,  nor 
heard  the  voice  of  its  thundering  breakers,  nor  played 
with  its  swelling  waves,  I  could  still  form  some  feeble 
conception  of  the  ocean  from  a  lake,  from  a  pool, 
from  a  little  drop  of  water,  even  from  this  sparkling 
dew-drop,  which,  born  from  the  womb  of  night,  and 
cradled  in  the  bosom  of  a  flower,  lies  waiting,  like  a 
soul  under  the  sun  of  righteousness,  to  be  exhaled  to 
heaven. 

Look  at  man,  then  :  be  he  a  poet  or  a  philosopher, 
a  man  of  mechanical  genius  or  artistic  skill,  a  states- 
man or  a  philanthropist,  or,  better  than  all,  a  man  who 
glows  with  piety  :  we  see  that  his  happiness  does  not 
lie  in  indolence,  but  in  the  gratification  of  his  tastes 
and  feelings,  and  the  active  exercise  of  his  faculties 
Assume  the  same  to  be  true  of  God — a  conception 
which,  while  it  exalts,  endears  our  Heavenly  Fathei. 
It  presents  Him  in  this  most  winning  and  attractive 
aspect,  that  the  very  happiness  of  Godhead  lies  in  the 
forth -putting — along  with  other  attributes — of  his 
goodness,  love,  and  mercy.  Now,  we  may  be  mis- 
taken, and  I  would  not  venture  to  speak  dogmatically 
here ;  yet  this  does  appear  to  shed  a  ray — a  beam,  if 
not  a  flood  of  light,  on  some  mysterious  passages  in 
the  providence  of  God.  Shores  on  which  man  has 
never  landed  lie  paved  with  shells ;  fields  which  his 
foot  has  never  trod  are  carpeted  with  flowers ;  seas 
where  he  has  never  dived  are  inlaid  with  pearls ;  and 
caverns  into  which  he  has  never  mined  are  radiant 
with  gems  of  the  finest  form  and  the  fiiirest  colcrs. 
Well,  it  may  be,  and  has  been  asked,  for  what  pur- 
pose this  lavish  expenditure  of  skill  and  beauty  on 


104  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

scenes,  when  there  is  neither  an  eye  of  intelligence 
to  admire,  nor  piety  to  adore  the  Maker?  The  poet, 
lamenting  genius  unknown,  unpatronized,  sinking  into 
an  ignoble  grave,  has  sung  of  "flowers  that  waste 
their  sweetness  on  the  desert  air ;"  and  np  on  the 
unfrequented  shelf  of  a  mountain  rock,  or  rooted  in 
the  crevice  of  an  old  castle  wall,  I  have  found  such  a 
flower,  opening  its  modest  beauty  to  the  sun,  and  put- 
ting to  shame  the  proudest  efforts  of  human  skill. 
Did  you  never  sit  down  beside  such  a  flower,  and 
courting  its  gentle  company,  ask  the  question.  Fair 
creature !  for  what  end  were  you  made,  and  made  so 
very  beautiful  ?  It  certainly  does  look  a  waste  of  power 
and  skill  divine.  Yet  may  it  not  be,  that  angels,  as 
they  fly  by  on  their  missions  of  mercy,  have  stayed 
their  wing  over  that  I'owly  flower,  ai.d  hovered  there 
awhile,  to  admire  its  colors  and  adore  its  Maker?  But 
whether  or  no,  God  himself  is  there.  Invisible,  He 
walks  these  unfrequented  solitudes,  and  with  ineffable 
complacency  looks  on  this  little  flower  as  his  own 
mighty  work,  and  as  a  mirror  of  his  infinite  perfec- 
tions. "God,"  it  is  said,  ''shall  rejoice  in  his  work." 
"  lie  made  all  things  for  Himself — even  the  wicked 
for  the  day  of  wrath." 

The  minnow  plays  in  a  shallow  pool,  and  leviathan 
cleaves  the  depths  of  ocean — winged  insects  sport  in  a 
sunbeam,  and  winged  angels  sing  before  the  throne ; 
and  whether  we  fix  our  eye  on  the  one  or  the  other, 
the  whole  fabric  of  creation  appears  to  ^droYQ  that  Je- 
hovah delights  in  the  evolution  of  his  powers,  in  tho 
display  of  his  wisdom,  love,  and  goodness;  and,  just 
as  it  is  to  the  delight  which  God  enjoys  in  the  exer- 
cise of  them  that  we  owe  this  beautiful  creation,  so  it 


god's  motive  in  salvation.  105 

is  to  his  delight  in  the  exercise  of  his  pity,  love,  and 
mercy,  that  we  owe  salvation,  with  all  its  blessings. 
Let  us  be  humble  and  thankful.  Man  had  as  little  to 
do  with  saving  as  with  making  himself:  the  creation 
of  Eden  and  the  cross  of  Calvary  are  equally  the  work 
of  God  ;  and  Jehovah  stands  forth  before  the  universe 
as  not  by  one  tittle  less  the  Saviour  than  the  Creator 
of  the  world.  To  display  his  glory  in  radiant  effuh 
gence — to  blaze  it  out  on  the  eyes  of  delighted  and 
adoring  angels — to  evoke  the  hidden  attribute  of 
mercy — to  give  expression  to  his  love  and  pity — God 
resolved  to  save,  and,  in  saving  man,  to  turn  this 
world  into  a  theater  for  the  most  affecting  tragedy  and 
amazing  love. 

Salvation  is  finished.  It  is  offered.  Shall  it  be 
rejected?  Take  the  good  of  it,  and  give  Him  the 
glory.  "  He  is  the  God  of  salvation  ;"  "in  his  name 
we  will  set  up  our  banners."  In  that  ladder  whereby 
faith  climbs  her  way  aloft  to  heaven,  there  is  not  a 
round  that  we  can  call  our  own.  In  this  ark  which, 
with  open  door,  offers  an  asylum  in  the  coming  storm, 
a  refuge  in  the  rising  flood — from  stem  to  stern  and 
keel  to  deck  there  is  neither  nail,  nor  plank,  nor  beam, 
that  we  can  claim  as  ours.  The  plan  of  redemption 
was  the  design  of  infinite  wisdom  ;  its  execution  was 
left  to  dying  love ;  and  it  is  Mercy,  generous  Mercy, 
whose  fair  form  stands  in  the  open  door,  bidding, 
entreating,  beseeching  you  all  to  come  in.  Listen  to 
the  voice  of  Jesus,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  And 
let  his  mother  teach  you  how  to  speak,  and  learn  from 
angels  how  to  sing.  With  her — the  casket  of  a  divine 
jewel,  who  held  the  babe  yet  unborn  in  her  virgin 
4* 


106  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL 

womb — with  Mary  say,  "My  soul  doth  magnify  the 
Lord;  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour ; 
for  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great  things  to  me, 
and  holy  is  his  name."  Or,  hark  to  the  angels'  song ! 
glowing  with  seraphic  iire,  borrow  seraphic  words; 
and  sing  with  them,  ere  they  wheel  their  bright  ranks 
for  upward  flight,  "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest ;  on 
earth,  peace  and  good  will  to  men." 


^Piut  ail  ©Iijcct  of  Dibine  llen|i. 


r'.erefore  say  unto  the  house  of  Israel,  I  do  not  this  for  your  sakes, 
0  house  of  Israel,  but  for  mine  holy  name's  sake. — Ezekiel 
xxxvi.  22. 

We  have  seen  a  sere  and  yellow  leaf,  tenacious  of 
its  hold,  hang  on  the  tree  all  the  winter  through  ;  and 
there  it  kept  dancing  and  whirling  idly  in  the  wind, 
not  beautiful  or  graceful,  out  of  place  and  season,  in 
humbling  contrast  with  the  young  and  fresh  com- 
panions which  budding  spring  had  hung  around  it. 
Like  that  wrinkled  and  withered  thing,  some  men 
(who  were  better  in  their  graves)  hang  too  long  upon 
this  world.  They  live  too  long ;  they  die  too  late, 
for  themselves  at  least.  Halfdead  and  half-alive, 
mind  and  memory  faded,  surviving  both  their  facul- 
ties and  usefulness,  and  but  mere  wrecks  of  what  once 
they  were,  they  tax  affection,  to  conceal  from  stran- 
gers' eyes  the  sad  ravages  of  time,  and  do  for  them 
the  tender  office  of  the  ivy,  when  she  kindly  hides 
beneath  her  green  and  glossy  mantle  the  crumbling 
ruin  or  old  hollow  tree. 

It  was  the  happy  fate  of  Moses — and  one  most 
singular  at  his  age — neither  to  outlive  his  honor  nor 
usefulness :  the  day  he  laid  down  his  leadership  saw 
him  lay  down  his  life :  death  found  him  at  his  post. 
Palinurus  was  swept  from  the  helm.  When  Heaven 
saw  meet  to  take  Moses,  he  was  one  whom  the  earth 
and  church  v.'ould  have  gladly  retained  :  but  the  time 


108  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

has  arrived  when  the  pilot,  who,  in  calm  and  sto';ni, 
through  winter  and  summer  seas,  has  steered  the 
commonwealth  of  Israel  for  well  nigh  half  a  centi.ry. 
is  to  resign  the  helm  into  other  hands.  A  faithful 
God  calls  a  faithful  servant  to  his  reward  and  }"est. 
JIc  did  not  leave  them,  however,  till  these  weary 
voyagers  were  brought  within  sight  of  land,  and,  in- 
deed, to  the  mouth  of  the  ver}^  haven  they  had  so  long 
desired  and  looked  to  see.  The  children  of  Israel 
have  reached  the  banks  of  Jordan,  and — grateful  sight 
to  eyes  weary  of  these  naked  mountains  and  the  dead 
flat  level  of  barren  sands — the  people  cluster  with 
eager  looks  on  every  summit,  and,  scattered  along  the 
banks,  they  gaze  across  the  flood  on  the  Land  of  Pro- 
mise. How  they  feed  their  eyes,  and  never  weary 
looking  on  the  verdant  pastures,  the  golden  harvests, 
the  rocks  clothed  with  vines,  the  swelling  hills  crowned 
with  wood,  the  plains  studded  with  villages  and  cities 
teeming  with  a  population  that  told  how  rich  the  soil, 
and  how  well  described,  the  land  as  one  "ftdl  of  corn 
and  wine,  and  flowing  with  milk  and  honey."  In  thin 
posture  of  affiiirs,  before  he  ascends  to  his  rest,  Moses 
summons  the  tribes  of  Israel;  and,  like  the  members 
of  a  fomily  who  gather  from  their  different  and  distant 
homes  around  a  father's  death-bed,  they  come  to  receive 
the  old  man's  blessing,  his  parting  counsels,  and  last, 
long  farewell. 

Propped  upon  pillows,  bending  on  his  staff,  panting 
for  breath,  speaking  in  brief  and  broken  sentences, 
by  those  groping  hands  that  felt  for  Ephraim's  and 
Manasseh's  head  betraying  the  stone-blindness  of  a 
great  old  age,  Jacob  gave  his  blessing  to  the  twelve 
sons,  who  all — uncommon  fortune  in  so  large  a  family 
— survived    their   parent,   and    were    themselves   the 


MAN  AN   OBJECT   OF  DIVINE   MERCY.  109 

fathers  of  the  living  millions  now  swarming  beneath 
the  eye  of  Moses.  But  how  different  the  bearing  and 
aspect  of  Moses  from  that  of  the  hoary  patriarch  I 
An  old  man!  if  not  as  old  a  man,  of  age  not  much 
short  of  Jacob's!  One  hundred  and  twenty  years  liad 
passed  on  liis  head,  but  they  had  neither  blanched 
bis  beard  nor  thinned  his  locks,  nor  drawn  a  wrinkle 
cc  his  loft}^  brow  :  that  eye  had  lost  none  of  its  fire, 
nor  that  arm  any  of  its  force,  since  the  day  when, 
striking  in  for  a  brother's  cause,  he  bestrode  a  pros- 
trate Hebrew,  and,  parrying  the  blow  of  the  Egyptian, 
gave  it  back,  like  a  battle-axe,  on  his  head.  Nearly 
the  same  age  as  Jacob,  whose  bent  and  venerable 
appearance,  as  he  entered  leaning  on  Joseph's  arm, 
led  Pharaoh  to  ask,  "  How  old  art  thou?"  Moses  bore 
himself  erect,  and  looked  the  same  as  on  the  day, 
forty  years  before,  when  he  strode  into  Pharaoh's  hall, 
and  demanded  of  an  angry  king  that  the  Hebrews 
should  go  free.  The  sun  tliat  went  down  in  the  even- 
ing of  summer's  longest  day,  sunk  as  full  and  bright, 
as  if  it  had  set  at  noon ;  "  his  eye  was  not  dim,  nor 
Avas  his  natural  strength  abated."  His  life  closed  amid 
the  rich  glories  of  the  noblest  address  that  grace, 
genius,  patriotism,  and  piety  ever  uttered. 

Standing  on  some  rocky  platform,  with  his  back  to 
the  sky,  and  his  face  to  the  people,  Moses  delivered 
an  address  never  forgotten,  and  that  for  long  ages 
continued  to  sound  its  trumpet  echoes  in  the  ears,  and 
to  breathe  courage  into  the  hearts  of  Israel.  He 
blessed  the  tribes  in  succession,  and — charged  with  in- 
spiration, as  a  cloud  with  lightning — he  burst  forth 
at  the  close  into  these  glowing  exclamations — "  There 
is  none  like  unto  the  God  of  Jeshurun,  who  rideth 
upon  the  heavens  in  tliy  help;  thy  shoes  sliall  be  iron 


110  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  brass ;  and  as  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be. 
The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  underneath  are 
the  everlasting  arms."  Jordan  gleataed  in  his  eye, 
and  stretching  out  his  arms  to  the  land  across  its 
flood,  he  cried — "Israel  then  shall  dwell  in  safety 
alone;  the  fountain  of  Jacob  shall  be  upon  a  land  of 
corn  and  wine ;  his  heaven  shall  drop  down  dew. 
Happy  art  thou,  0  Israel :  who  is  like  unto  thee,  O 
people  saved  by  the  Lord  ?" — Glorious  words  to  the 
Ilebrews !  and  most  gracious  in  Christian  eyes.  Faith 
claims  them  as  part  of  her  inheritance,  and  looking 
on  that  mighty  multitude  as  the  dying  type  of  a 
never-dying  church,  serves  us  heirs  of  entail  to  the 
spiritual  blessings  which  lay  concealed  beneath  the 
vail  of  these  earthly  promises. 

It  is  not,  however,  so  much  of  the  close  as  of  the 
commencement  of  Moses'  speech,  that  I  would  speak,. 
Their  deliverer  from  the  house  of  bondage,  and  leader 
of  their  exodus  to  the  promised  land,  he  was  a  type 
of  Jesus.  That  host,  supplied  with  streams  from  the 
flinty  rock,  guided  by  the  Shekinah,  and  fed  with 
manna  from  the  skies,  in  its  grievous  bondage  and 
great  deliverance,  its  pilgrim  wanderings  and  hard- 
fought  battles,  its  trials  and  crowning  triumph,  was  a 
type  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  We  are  undoubtedly 
heirs  of  all  its  promises ;  but  as  we  cannot  take  the  sweet 
and  reject  the  bitter,  in  serving  ourselves  heirs  to 
Israel's  promises,  we  become  heirs  also  to  her  chastise- 
ments, her  guilt  and  sin,  her  warnings  and  rebukes. 
Now,  listen  to  Moses  as  he  addressed  the  very  people 
of  whose  coming  fortunes  he  spoke  such  glorious 
things: — "Plear,  0  Israel:  Thou  art  to  pass  over 
Jordan  this  day,  to  go  in  to  possess  nations  greater 
and  mightier  than  thyself:  Not  for  thy  righteousness, 


MiVN  AN   OBJECT   OF   DIVINE    MERCY.  Ill 

or  for  the  uprightness  of  thine  heart,  dost  thou  go  to 
possess  their  hand.  Understand,  therefore,  that  thou 
goest  not  in  for  your  own  sakes.  The  Lord  thy  God 
giveth  thee  not  this  good  land  to  possess  it  for  thy 
righteousness ;  for  thou  art  a  stiff-necked  people,  and 
hast  been  rebellious  against  the  Lord  from  the  day 
that  I  knew  you." 

If  there  be  a  man  still  on  earth,  in  a  situation  cor- 
responding to  theirs  who  stood  on  the  brink  of  the 
flood,  and  saw  Canaan's  fair  fields  inviting  them  to 
cross,  that  man  is  a  dying  Christian.  With  life  fast 
ebbing — his  battle  fought,  the  journey  finished,  the 
desert  traveled,  the  world  with  its  rough  paths  and 
vanities  behind  him,  heaven  opening  its  glories  to  his 
eye,  and  death's  cold,  dark  stream  rolling  at  his  feet — 
he  stands  on  the  bank  of  the  river  and,  ready  to  pass 
on  when  the  High  Priest  has  gone  down  to  divide  the 
flood,  he  waits  but  the  summons  to  go.  Well — I  re- 
pair to  the  chamber  where  this  good  man  dies,  and, 
sitting  down  beside  his  bed,  I  open  the  Bible,  and 
read  these  words  in  his  listening  ears,  "  Thou  art 
to  pass  Jordan  this  day.  Speak  not  thou  in  thine 
heart,  saying,  for  my  own  righteousness  the  Lord  hath 
brought  me  in  to  possess  the  land.  Understand,  that 
the  Lord  giveth  thee  not  this  good  land  for  thy  right- 
eousness and  uprightness ;  for  thou  art  stiff-necked, 
and  hast  been  rebellious  against  the  Lord."  To  some, 
who,  taking  compassion  on  our  ignorance,  might  turn 
round  to  tell  us,  what  a  good  man  he  had  been,  what 
an  example  of  piety,  how  bright  he  had  shone,  how 
much  the  church  would  lament  his  death,  and  how 
much  the  poor  would  miss  his  charity,  these  words 
would  sound  hard  and  harsh,  unseasonable  and  most 
uncharitable.  But  whatever  harshness  might  appear  to 


112  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

others  in  sucli  an  address,  this,  I  am  sure,  would  be 
that  Christian's  humble,  prompt,  liearfcy  response: — 
How  true !  how  characteristic  !  what  a  faithful  picture  ! 
how  descriptive  alike  of  my  original  unregenerate 
state,  and  the  many  short-comings  of  my  renewed 
nature!  Kaising  his  dying  eye  to  heaven,  and  clasp- 
ing his  hands,  he  hushes  into  silence  the  ill-timed 
praise  of  his  friends,  and  repeats  as  his  own,  the  con- 
fession of  Job, — "  I  have  heard  of  thee  with  the  hear- 
ing of  the  ear,  but  now  mine  eye  seeth  thee  ;  where- 
fore I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes." 
He  clings  like  Peter  to  the  hand  of  Jesus.  Mercy  is 
all  his  prayer,  and  mercy  all  his  praise;  hopes  of  mer- 
cy in  the  future  kindle  in  his  eye,  and  grateful  thanks 
for  mercies  in  the  past  employ  his  latest  breath,  and 
dwell  on  his  faltering  tongue.  His  last  conscious  look 
turns  away  from  his  own  works  to  fix  itself  upon  the 
cross,  and  the  last  word  that  trembles  on  his  quiver- 
ing lip  is,  Jesus ! 

It  were  not  easy  to  find  a  better  example  of  this, 
than  one  which  is  recorded  in  the  history  of  England's 
greatest  apostle.  When  he  lay  on  an  expected  death- 
bed (though  God  spared  him  some  years  longer  to  the 
world  and  church),  his  attendants  asked  John  Wes- 
ley, what  where  his  hopes  for  eternity?  And  some- 
thing like  this  was  his  reply — For  fifty  years  I  have 
been  traveling  up  and  down  this  world,  amid  scorn 
and  hardship,  to  preach  Jesus  Christ :  and  I  have 
done  what  in  me  lay  to  serve  my  blessed  Master. 
What  he  had  done,  how  poor  he  lived,  how  hard  he 
labored,  with  what  holy  fire  his  boSom  burned,  with 
what  success  he  preached,  how  brilliantly  he  illustra- 
ted the  character — "  dying,  and  behold  we  live  ;  un- 
known, and  yet  well  known  ;  poor,  yet  making  many 


MAN   AN   OBJECT   OF    DIVIXE   MERCr.  113 

rich;  having  nothing,  yet  possessing  all  things;" — 
these  things  his  life  and  works  attest.  They  are  seen 
in  his  church's  history,  and  in  the  crown  he  wears  in 
heaven  so  bright  with  a  blaze  of  jewels — the  saved 
through  his  agency.  Yet  thus  he  spake,  "  My  hopes 
or  eternity  ?  my  only  hopes  rest  on  Christ ;"  and  as 
he  confession  of  his  faith,  he  repeated  these  words : — - 

"  I  the  cliief  of  sinners  am, 
But  Jesus  died  for  me." 

This  confession,  so  redolent  of  Wesley's  piety,  and 
honorable  to  his  memory,  and  the  words  of  Moses  to 
Israel,  are  in  perfect  harmony ;  and  both  are  in  har- 
mony with  this  great  truth  of  the  text,  that  God  saves 
sinners,  not  for  their  sakes,  or  out  of  any  regard  what- 
ever to  their  worth  or  merits.  We  have  already 
dwelt  at  some  length  on  this  truth.  Why,  then,  it 
may  be  asked,  choose  the  same  text,  and  expatiate 
again  on  the  same  theme?  If  I  needed  apology  or 
defence  for  lingering  on  this  humbling,  but  most  sal- 
utary and  important  subject,  I  would  find  it  in  a 
high  example.  Observe  how  Moses,  in  his  dying  ad- 
dress to  Israel,  repeats  and  repeats,  iterates  and  re- 
iterates, this  very  truth — "Speak  not  thou  in  thine 
heart,  saying,  for  my  righteousness  the  Lord  hath 
brought  me  in  to  possess  this  land  ;  but  for  the  wick- 
edness of  these  nations  the  Lord  doth  drive  them 
out  from  before  thee."  Again — "  Kot  for  thy  right- 
eousness, or  the  uprightness  of  thine  heart,  dost  thou 
go  to  possess  their  land."  Again — "Understand, 
therefore,  that  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee  not 
this  good  land  to  possess  it  for  thy  righteousness, 
for  thou  art  a  stiff-necked  people."  Again — "Re- 
member, forget  not  how  thou  provokedst  the   Lord 


114  THE   GOSPEL    IN"    EZEKIEL. 

tliy  God  to  VvTatb  m  the  wilderness;  from  the  day 
that  thou  didst  depart  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt, 
until  ye  came  unto  this  place,  ye  have  been  rebellious 
against  the  Lord."  Again — "In  Horeb  ye  provoked 
the  Lord  to  wrath,  so  that  the  Lord  was  angry  with 
you,  to  have  destroyed  you."  Again — "The  Lord 
spake  unto  me,  saying,  I  have  seen  this  people,  and 
behold,  it  is  a  stiff-necked  people  ;  let  me  alone,  that 
I  may  destroy  them."  And  again — "  Ye  have  been 
rebellious  against  the  Lord  from  the  day  that  I  knew 
you.'^  Thus  Moses.  A  master,  who  charges  his  ser- 
vant with  some  important  message,  repeats,  and  re- 
iterates it  in  his  ear.  The  teacher,  who  communicates 
some  leading  rule  in  grammar  to  his  pupils,  or  some 
fundamental  truth  in  science  to  his  students,  comes 
over  it  again  and  again  ;  just  as  a  carpenter,  by  re- 
peated blows  drives  home  the  nail,  and  fixes  it  firm 
in  its  place.  For  the  same  end  we  resume  our  study 
of  the  text.  It  divides  itself  into  two  branches  ;  first, 
wliat  does  not;  secondly,  what  does  move  God  to 
save  us. 

To  the  first  question  our  answer  is— Not  any  thing 
m  us ;  to  the  second — His  regard  to  his  own  holy 
name.  Now,  in  speaking  on  the  first  of  these  I  re- 
mark— 

I.  The  doctrine  that  God  is  not  moved  to  save  man 
by  any  merit  or  excellence  of  his,  is  a  truth  of  the 
highest  importance  and  consequence  to  sinners. 

This  is  no  doctrine — like  our  Lord's  personal  reign, 
or  the  question  of  adult  or  infmt  baptism,  or  the 
points  of  difference  between  Episcopalians,  Presbyte- 
rians, and  Independents — in  regard  to  which  it  is  not 
of  vital  importance  which  side  of  the  controversy  we 


MAN   AN"   OBJECT   OF   DIVINE    MERCY.  115 

es])ouse  and  advocate.     This  doctrine  has  a  direct  and 
most  important  bearing  on  the  salvation   of  sinners. 
Like  the  rough  and  stern  Baptist  it  prepares  the  way 
for  Christ.     Man  must  be  emptied  of  self  before  he 
can  be  filled  with  grace.     We  must  be  stripped  of  our 
rags  before  we  can  be  clothed  with  righteousness;  we 
must  be  unclothed,  that  we  may   be  clothed  upon; 
wounded,   that  we  may  be  healed  ;  killed,   that   we 
may  be  made  alive;  buiied  in  disgrace,  that  w^e  may 
rise  in  grace.     These  words  are  as  true  of  the  soul  as 
the  body — ''  Sown  in  corruption,  that  we  may  be  rais- 
ed in  incorruption  ;  sown  in  dishonor,  that  we  may  be 
raised  in  glory ;  sown  in  weakness,  that  w^e  may  be 
raised  in  power."     To  borrow  an  illustration  from  the 
surgeon's  art,  the  ill-set  bone  must  be  broken  again, 
that  it  may  be  set  aright.     I  would  press  this  truth  on 
your  attention,  because  a  soul  filled  with  self  has  no 
room  for  God ;  and,  like  the  inn  of  Bethlehem,  given 
to  lodge  meaner  guests,  a  heart  full  of  pride  has  no 
chamber,  within  whicli  Christ  may  be  born  "  in  us  the 
hope  of  glory. " 

To  tell  man  that  he  has  no  merit  is,  no  doubt,  a 
humbling  statement,  and  one  that  lays  the  loftiest 
sinner  in  the  dust.  This  doctrine  is  the  true  leveler, 
it  puts  all  men  on  the  same  degraded  platform  before 
God:  sets  kings  as  low  as  beggars,  and  the  strictest 
virtue — virtue  wbich  the  breath  of  suspicion  never 
sullied — with  base  and  brazen-faced  iniquity.  1  admit 
that,  if  we  had  no  better  righteousness  than  our  own 
to  rest  on,  w^e  should  do  our  best  to  establish  its 
claims,  and  mayhap  assert  the  right  of  decency  to  say 
to  harlots,  publicans,  and  sinners,  "  Stand  aside,  I  am 
holier  than  thou."  But  why  cling  to  that  when  we 
have  a  better  ripjliteousness  in  our  offer?     No  wonder 


116  tup:  gospel  in  ezekiel. 

at  all  that  the  mendicant,  whose  timid  knock  ^iaa 
called  us  to  the  door,  stands  there  shivering  in  filthy 
rags.  Poor  wretch  !  His  crimes  or  misfortunes  have 
reduced  him  to  these;  he  has  no  change  of  raiment 
nor  choice  of  clothing;  and  so, — with  none  kind  or 
rich  enough  to  help  him, — he  must  make  the  best  of 
what  he  has  to  robe  his  nakedness  and  protect  an 
emaciated  frame  from  the  biting  cold.  No  w^onder 
also,  that  the  prodigal,  having  spent  all  his  portion  in 
riotous  living,  in  such  dress — if  dress  it  could  be 
called — sought  his  father's  house;  nor  any  wonder 
that  his  father,  so  soon  as  the  quick  eyes  of  love 
espied  him  from  afar,  ran  to  meet  the  penitent,  fell  on 
his  neck,  and  kissed  him  in  that  ragged  and  loath- 
some attire.  To  say  nothing  of  those  who  have 
yearned  over  some  unw^orthy  child — every  father 
understands  that.  But  how  had  the  wonder  of  the 
st-ory  grown,  how  had  son,  servants,  and  neighbors 
concluded  that  the  wretched  youth  had  drunk  away 
his  senses  as  well  as  mone}^,  had  he  so  loved  hi? 
rags,  as  to  decline  to  part  with  them,  and,  clinging  to 
these  wrecks  of  better  days — these  sad  memorials  of 
his  sin  and  folly — had  he  refused  to  put  the  foul  rags 
off,  that  he  might  put  the  fair  robe  on !  He  did 
nothing  so  foolish ;  and  why  should  we  ?  Now  since 
God  pronounces  our  righteousness — observe,  not  our 
wickednesses,  but  our  devotions,  our  charities,  our 
costliest  sacrifices,  our  most  applauded  services — to  be 
"  filthy  rags,"  trust  not  to  them.  AVhat  man  in  his 
senses  would  think  of  going  to  court  in  rags?  Nor 
think  that  the  righteousness  of  the  cross  was  wrought 
to  patch  up  these;  to  make  up,  as  some  say^  for  what 
is  defective  and  wanting  in  our  own  merits.  Nor 
fancy,  like  some  who  would  have  a  Saviour  and  yet 


MAN  AN   OBJECT  OF  DIVINE   MERCY.  117 

teep  their  sins,  tliat  you  may  wear  the  rags  beneath 
this  righteousness.  Put  them  away;  not  as  a  dress, 
which  a  man  lays  aside,  to  be  afterwards  resumed ; 
but  cast  them  away,  like  a  beggar  who,  having  got  a 
better  attire,  flings  his  rags  into  the  nearest  ditch,  and 
leaves  them  there  in  their  foulness  to  rottenness  and 
decay.  God  says  of  the  soul  which  Faith  has  con- 
ducted to  Jesus — ''  take  away  the  filthy  garments 
from  him,  Behold  I  have  caused  thine  iniquity  to 
pass  from  thee,  and  I  will  clothe  thee  with  change  of 
raiment." 

If  this  doctrine  is  humbling  to  our  pride,  it  is  full 
of  encouragement  to  a  poor  sinner's  hope.  It  lays  me 
down,  but  it  is  to  lift  me  up.  It  throws  me  on  the 
ground,  that,  like  Antaeus,  the  giant  of  fable,  I  may 
rise  stronger  than  I  fell.  It  is  not  for  our  sake 
that  we  are  saved.  If  Mercy  stoops  to  the  lowest 
guilt.  Oh  then  there  is  hope  of  salvation  for  me — 
for  a  man  who  has  nothing  that  he  can  call  his  own 
but  misery  and  sin;  I  will  not  sit  here  to  perish: 
but  following  a  Manasseh  and  a  Magdalene,  a  dying 
thief,  and  a  blood-stained  Saul,  I  will  join  the  throng 
that,  called  from  highways  and  hedges,  are  pouring — 
a  ragged  crowd — into  the  marriage  supper  of  the 
liamb.  Are  any  among  you  holding  back,  till,  by 
this  or  that  improvement  in  your  habits,  you  consider 
yourselves  fit  to  go  to  Christ?  Fit  to  go  to  Christ! — 
fit  to  go  to  Christ  you  shall  never  be,  but  only  by 
going  to  him.  Your  warrant  lies  in  your  wants; 
your  plea  for  mercy  in  his  merits;  your  plea  for  an 
interest  in  his  merits  in  your  own  demerits.  Hear 
and  adopt  the  prayer  of  David — "For  thine  own 
name's  sake,  pardon  mine  iniquity;"  that  is  his 
prayer;    now  what   is   his    plea?    "for   it   is   little," 


118  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

"very  little,"  or  "less  than  others?"     No.     lit  adds 
and  urges  this,  "for  it  is  great." 

Was  there  ever  an  invalid  so  senseless  as  to  say, 
when  I  am  somewhat  better,  when  this  fever  burns 
less  fierce,  this  pulse  beats  more  calm,  this  running 
ulcer  has  a  less  loathsome  and  offensive  discharge,  I 
will  repair  to  the  hospital?  Yet  such  is  their  folly 
who  say,  when  I  am  holier,  I  will  go  to  Jesus.  Go 
to  him  a»  you  are;  show  the  physician  your  wounds, 
bruises,  putrifying  sores — how  the  whole  head  is  sick, 
and  the  whole  heart  is  faint.  It  is  said  of  the  dis- 
ciples, that  "  they  took  in  our  Lord  as  he  was  into  the 
boat;"  now  he  is  to  take  you  in  as  you  are — just  as 
you  are.  You  cannot  be  made  holy  till  you  go  to 
him?  And  what  hinders  you  to  go  and  go  now? 
What  does  he  say  ?  Hear  him — "  I  came  not  to  call 
the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance."  And  the 
worse  your  case  is,  the  greater,  in  a  sense,  is  your 
certainty  of  immediate  salvation  ; — yours  the  hope  of 
the  maimed  and  bleeding  soldier  whom  kind  com- 
rades bear  from  the  deadly  trench,  and  who  knows 
that  the  worse  his  wound,  the  more  sure  is  he  of  the 
surgeon's  earliest  care ;  and  that  from  the  very  couch, 
where  noblest  birth  or  highest  rank  lies  stretched 
under  some  less  serious  injury,  that  man  of  humanity 
— image  of  the  great  Physician — will  turn  away  to 
kneel  down  by  a  poor  orphan  boy,  the  meanest  pri- 
vate— aye,  even  a  mutilated  enemy,  in  haste  to  tie  up- 
the  severed  vessels,  and  stem  the  tide  that  pours  his 
life's  blood  upon  the  ground.  God  help  you  to  say 
with  Paul — "It  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all 
acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to 
save  sinners,  of  whom  I  am  chief,"  and  believing  that, 


MAN   AN   OBJECT   OF   DIVINE    MERCY.  119 

cry  with  David,   "Make  haste  unto  mc,  0  God.     0 
Lord,  make  no  tarrying." 

11.  It  is  as  important  for  the  saint  as  for  the  sinner 
to  remember,  that  he  is  not  saved  through  personal 
merit,  or  for  his  own  sake. 

When  age  has  stiffened  its  bark  and  fibres,  if  3^ou 
bend  a  branch  into  a  new  direction,  either  turn  that 
to  the  right  hand  which  had  grown  to  the  left,  or  raise 
the  bough  to  the  skies  which  had  been  bent  on  the 
ground,  it  is  long  before  it  loses  the  tendency  to  re- 
sume its  old  position.  And  many  years  after  ita 
course  has  been  changed,  and  the  art,  that  conquers 
nature,  has  turned  its  waters  into  a  new  cut,  the  river 
needs  careful  watching  ;  else,  when  swollen  by  winter 
snows  or  summer  floods,  it  bursts  our  barriers,  sweeps 
dyke  and  bulwark  to  the  sea,  and,  in  the  pride  of  vie 
tory,  foams,  and  roars,  and  rages,  in  its  old  accus- 
tomed channel.  Even  so,  when  God  has  laid  hands 
upon  us,  and  grace  has  given  our  earthly  soul  a  heaven- 
ward bent,  how  prone  it  is  to  start  back  again  I  When 
he  that  sitteth  upon  the  flood,  and  turneth  the  hearts 
of  men  like  the  rivers  of  water,  hath  sent  the  current 
of  our  tastes  and  feelings  in  a  new  direction,  how  apt 
are  they,  especially  in  some  outburst  of  sudden  temp- 
tation that  comes  down  like  a  thunder-spout,  to  flow 
back  into  the  old  and  deep-worn  channels  of  a  cor- 
rupt nature  !  Of  this,  David  and  Peter  are  memora- 
able  and  dreadful  examples.  And  who,  that  has  en- 
deavored to  keep  his  heart  with  diligence,  has  not 
felt,  and  mourned  over  the  tendency  to  be  working 
out  a  righteousness  of  his  own,  to  be  pleased  wiih 
himself,  and,  by  taking  some  satisfaction  in  his  own 


120  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

merits,  to  undervalue  those  of  Christ.  So  was  it  with 
that  godly  man  who,  on  one  occasion — most  rare 
achievement! — offered  up  a  prayer  without  one  wan- 
dering thought ;  and  described  it  as  the  worst  which 
he  had  ever  offered,  because,  as  he  said,  the  Devil 
made  him  proud  of  it.  So  w^as  it  also  with  the  minis- 
ter, wdio,  upon  being  told  by  one — more  ready  to 
praise  the  preacher  than  profit  by  the  sermon — that 
he  had  delivered  an  excellent  discourse,  replied, 
*'  You  need  not  tell  me  that ;  Satan  told  me  so  before 
I  left  the  pulpit."  Oh !  it  were  well  for  the  best  of 
us  that  we  could  say  with  Paul,  "  we  are'  not  ignorant 
of  his  devices." 

Step  into  this  room,  where  the  greatest  Scotchman 
lies  a  dying,  and  see  an  example  more  striking,  warn- 
ing, alarming  still.  From  the  iron  grasp  of  kings  and 
princes,  Knox  has  wrung  the  lights  of  Scotland. 
Eeady  to  contend  even  unto  the  death,  he  had  bearded 
proud  nobles  and  prouder  churchmen  ;  he  had  stood 
under  the  fire  of  battle  ;  he  had  been  chained  to  the 
galley's  oar ;  he  had  occupied  the  pulpit  with  a  cara- 
bine leveled  at  his  fearless  head  ;  and  to  plant  God's 
truth,  and  that  tree  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  which 
has  struck  its  roots  so  deep  in  our  soil,  and  under 
whose  shadow  we  are  this  day  sitting,  he  had  fonght 
many  a  hard-fought  battle;  but  his  hardest  was  fought 
in  the  solitude  of  the  night,  and  amid  the  quietness  of 
a  dying  chamber.  One  morning  his  friends  enter  his- 
apartment.  They  find  him  faint  and  pallid,  wearing 
the  look  of  one  who  had  passed  a  troubled  night.  So 
he  had  :  he  had  been  fighting,  not  sleeping ;  wrest- 
ling, not  resting ;  and  it  required  all  God's  grace  to 
bring  him  off  a  conqueror.  Till  daybreak,  Jacob 
wrestled  with  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant ;  and  that 


MAN   AN    OBJECT   OF   DIVINE    MERCY.  121 

long  night  Knox  had  passed  wrestling  with  the  Prince 
of  Darkness.  Like  Bunyan's  pilgiim,  he  met  Apol- 
]yon  in  the  valley,  and  their  swords  struck  fire  in  the 
shadow  of  death.  The  lion  is  said  to  be  boldest  in 
the  storm.  His  roar  is  never  so  loud  as  in  the  pauses 
of  the  thunder,  and  when  the  lightning  flashes,  bright- 
est are  the  flashes  of  his  cruel  eye  ;  and  even  so  he, 
who,  as  a  roaring  lion,  goeth  about  seeking  whom  he 
may  devour,  often  seizes  the  hour  of  nature's  distress 
to  nssault  us  with  his  fiercest  temptations.  Satan 
tempted  Job  when  he  was  bowed  down  with  grief. 
Satan  tempted  Jesus  when  he  was  faint  with  hunger. 
Satan  tempted  Peter  when  he  was  weary  with  watch- 
ing and  heart-broken  with  sorrow ;  and,  reserving 
perhaps  his  grand  assault  on  us  for  times  that  offer 
liim  a  great  advantage,  it  was  when  Knox  was  worn 
out,  left  alone,  his  head  laid  low  on  a  dying  pillow, 
that  Satan,  like  a  roaring  lion,  leaped  upon  his  bed. 
Into  that  room  the  Enemy  had  come  ;  he  stands  by 
his  bed, — he  reminds  him  that  he  had  been  a  stand- 
ard-bearer of  the  truth, — a  reformer ;  a  bold  confessoi  ; 
a  distinguished  sufferer ;  the  very  foremost  man  of  his 
time  and  country ;  he  attempts  to  persuade  him,  that 
surely  such  rare  merits  deserve  the  crown.  The 
Christian  conquered — but  hard  put  to  it — only  con- 
quered through  Him  that  loved  him.  His  shield  was 
the  truth  of  my  text  ;  he  had  been  lost,  wrecked  at 
the  mouth  of  the  very  harbor,  had  he  lost  sight  of  this 
beacon, — "  I  do  not  this  for  your  sake,  but  for  mine 
holy  name's  sake." 

And  seeing,  as  these  cases  show,  there  mj^y  be  such 
danger  lurking — like  c^  snake  among  flowers — under 
our  best  attain n:iei;ts  \  seeing  that,  like  the  inflamma- 
tory attacks  to  which  those  are  most  liable  who  are 

6 


122  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

highest  fed,  whose  bones  are  most  full  of  marrow,  arc! 
whose  veins  are  gorged  with  blood,  we  may  be  ex- 
posed to  spiritual  pride  through  the  v^tj  fullnesc  of 
our  graces ;  seeing  that  he,  who  can  twist  the  Bible 
into  arguments  for  sin,  can  use  our  best  works  as  fuel 
o  the  fires  of  vanity,  let  us  watch  and  pr\v  and  learx) 
to  be  humble.  Oh,  it  is  needful  for  the  holiest  to  re- 
member, that  man's  best  works  are  bad  at  the  best : 
and  that,  to  use  the  words  of  Paul,  it  is  *'Not  b-^ 
works  of  righteousness  that  we  have  done,  but  ac- 
cording to  his  mercy  he  hath  saved  us,  through  ihp 
washing  of  regeneration,  and  the  renewing  of  th* 
Holy  Ghost." 

III.  This  doctrine,  while  it  keeps  the  saint  humble 
will  help  to  make  him  holy. 

Here — no  ornament  to  park  or  garden — stands  .'* 
dwarfed,  stunted,  bark-bound  tree.  IIow  am  I  tc 
develop  that  dwarfish  stem  into  tall  and  graceful 
beauty — to  clothe  with  blossoms  these  naked  branches, 
and  hang  them,  till  they  bend,  with  clustered  fruit? 
Change  such  as  that  is  not  to  be  effected  by  surface 
dressing,  or  any  care  bestowed  on  the  upper  soil.  The 
remedy  must  go  to  the  root.  You  cannot  make  that 
tree  grow  upwards  till  you  break  up  the  crust — pul- 
verize the  hard  subsoil,  and  give  the  roots  room  and 
way  to  strike  deeper  down  ; — for,  the  deeper  the  root, 
and  the  wider  spread  the.  fine  filaments  of  its  rootlets, 
the  higher  the  tree  lifts  an  umbrageous  head  to  heaven, 
and  spreads  out  its  hundred  arms,  to  catch,  in  dews, 
ruin-drops,  and  sunbeams,  the  blessings  of  the  sky. 

The  believer — in  respect  of  character,  *  a  tree  of 
righteousness  of  the  Lord's  planting,"  in  respect  of 
strength,  "a  cedar  of  Lebanon,"  in  respect  of  fruitful- 


MAN  AN  OBJECT   OF   DIVINE  MERCY.  123 

ness,  an  olive,  in  respect  of  position,  "a  palm  tree 
planted  in  the  courts  of  God's  house,"  in  respect  of 
full  supplies  of  grace,  a  tree  by  the  rivers  of  water 
"  which  yieldeth  its  fruit  in  its  season,  and  whose  leaf 
doth  not  wither  " — offers  this  analogy  between  grace 
and  nature,  j^s  the  tree  grows  best  skyward  that 
grows  most  downward,  the  lower  the  saint  grows  in 
humility,  the  higher  he  grows  in  holiness.  Tlie  soar- 
ing corresponds  to  the  sinking.  I  wish  you  to  think 
little,  very  little  of  yourselves ;  but  why  ?  because 
the  less  you  think  of  yourselves,  the  more  will  you 
esteem  Christ ;  and  the  humbler  you  are  in  your  own 
eyes,  the  higher  you  will  stand  in  God's.  The  guest, 
who,  coming  modestly  in,  takes  the  lowest  place  at 
the  table,  is  called  up  to  the  seat  of  honor ;  and  I  have 
always  thought,  that  none  are  so  sure  to  lie  in  Jesus' 
bosom  as  those  I  have  seen  lying  lowest  at  Jesus'  feet. 
Was  it  not  over  one,  who  content  to  be  spoken  of  as 
"a  dog,"  held  herself  well  served  with  crumbs,  and 
asked  nothing  but  the  sweepings  of  the  table,  that 
Jesus  pronounced  this  superlative  eulogium — "  I  have 
not  found  such  faith  ;  no,  not  in  Israel."  "  God  ex- 
alteth  the  humble,  and  abaseth  the  proud."  How  im- 
portant, therefore,  the  sentiment  of  my  text?  Re- 
ceive it,  "and  the  loftiness  of  man  shall  be  bowed 
down,  and  the  haughtiness  of  men  shall  be  made  low ; 
and  the  Lord  alone  shall  be  exalted  in  that  day." 

Piety  and  pride  are  not  less  opposed  to  each  other 
than  light  and  darkness.  No  doubt  strange  things — 
singular  conjunctions — are  seen  in  grace  as  well  as  in 
nature.  Like  an  ill  assorted  marriage,  you  may  find 
a  sour  and  ascetic  temper  allied  to  genuine  foith. 
Eminent  piety  has  stood  blushing  in  sackcloth  on  a 
pillory  of  shame.     The  sun  of  saintsbip  has  undergone 


124  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

a  dreadful  and  unlocked  for  eclipse.  Good  and  great 
men  have  fallen  into  gross  sin,  causing  God's  people  to 
hang  down  their  heads,  and  crj,  as  they  wept  in  secret, 
"How  are  the  mighty  fallen  !"  In  short,  the  grace 
of  God  has  been  found  in  such  strange  company  as  to 
give  occasion  for  the  remark  of  one,  who  said,  "  the 
grace  of  God  will  live  where  neither  you  nor  I  could 
live."  But,  among  these  anomalies,  amounting  some- 
times almost  to  monstrosities,  I  will  venture  to  say 
you  never  saw — no,  nor  the  church,  nor  world,  nor 
any  eye  nor  age  ever  yet  saw — a  saint  distinguished 
for  his  holiness,  who  was  not  also  remarkable  for  hia 
humility.  The  grandest  edifices,  the  tallest  towers, 
the  lofties  spires,  rest  on  deep  foundations.  The  very 
safety  of  eminent  gifts  and  pre-eminent  graces  lies  in 
their  association  with  deep  humilit3\  They  were  dan 
gerous  without  it.  Great  men  need  to  be  good  men. 
Look  at  this  mighty  ship — a  leviathan  on  the  deep ; 
with  her  towering  masts,  and  carrying  a  cloud  of  can- 
vas, how  she  steadies  herself  on  the  waves,  and  walks 
erect  upon  the  rolling  waters,  like  a  thing  of  inherent, 
self- regulating  life  !  Why — when  corn  is  waving,  and 
trees  are  bending,  and  foaming  billows  roll  before  the 
blast  and  break  in  thunders  on  the  beach,  is  she  not 
flung  on  her  beam-ends — sent  down — foundering  into 
the  deep  ?  Why,  because,  unseen  beneath  the  surface, 
a  vast,  well-ballasted  hull  gives  her  balance,  and,  tak- 
ing hold  of  the  water,  keeps  her  steady  under  a  press 
of  sail,  and  on  the  bosom  of  the  swelling  sea.  Even 
so,  that  the  saint  may  be  preserved  upright,  erect,  and 
tept  from  falling,  God  gives  him  balance  and  ballast 
— giving  the  man,  on  whom  he  has  bestowed  lofty 
endowments,  the  grace  of  a  proportionate  humility. 


MAN  AN   OBJECT   OF  DIVINE   MERCY.  125 

We  have  wondered  at  the  lowliness  of  a  man,  who 
stood  among  his  compeers  like  Saul  among  the  people 
— to  find  him  simple,  gentle,  generous,  docile,  humble 
as  a  little  child — till  we  found  that  it  was  with  great 
men  as  with  great  trees.  What  giant  tree  has  not 
giant  roots?  When  the  tempest  has  blown  over  some 
such  monarch  of  the  forest,  and  he  lies  in  death 
stretched  out  at  his  full  length  upon  the  ground,  on 
seeing  the  mighty  roots  that  fed  him — the  strong  cables 
that  moored  him  to  the  soil — we  cease  to  wonder  at 
his  noble  stem,  and  the  broad,  leafy,  lofty  head  he 
raised  to  heaven,  defiant  of  storms.  Even  so,  when 
death  has  struck  down  some  distinguished  saint — 
whose  removal,  like  that  of  a  great  tree,  leaves  avast 
gap  below,  and  whom,  brought  down  now,  as  it  were, 
to  our  own  level,  we  can  measure  better  when  he  has 
fallen  than  when  he  stood — and  when  the  funeral  is 
over,  and  his  repositories  are  opened,  and  the  secrets 
of  his  heart  are  unlocked  and  brought  to  light,  ah ! 
now,  in  the  profound  humility  they  reveal — ^^in  the 
spectacle  of  that  honored  gray  head,  laid  so  low  in 
the  dust  before  God — we  see  the  great  roots  and 
strength  of  his  lofty  piety. 

Would  you  be  holy  ?  learn  to  be  humble.  Would 
you  be  humble?  take  my  text,  and,  with  a  pen  of 
iron  and  the  point  of  a  diamond,  engrave  it  upon  your 
heart;  or  rather  pray — Holy  Spirit,  fountain  of  light, 
and  giver  of  all  grace,  with  thine  own  divine  finger 
inscribe  it  there ! 

Would  you  be  holy  ?  you  must  be  humble.  Would 
you  be  humble?  Oh!  never  forget  that  the  magnet, 
which  drew  a  Saviour  from  the  skies,  was  not  your 
merit  but  your  misery.     "  Be  clothed  with  humility,^' 


126  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  ere. long  you  shall  exchange  the  sackcloth  for  a 
shining  robe.  What !  although  this  grace  may  impart 
to  your  feelings  a  somber  hue  ?  Gray  mornings  are 
the  precursors  of  brightest  clays ;  weeping  springs  are 
followed  by  sunny  summers  and  autumns  of  richest 
harvest ;  and  in  the  spiritual  as  in  the  natural  king- 
dom—*' They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy." 


6oir  ijlorififir  in  '|ifhin|itioii. 

And  I  will  sanctify  my  great  name  whicli  -was  profaned  among  tb« 
heathen,  &c. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  23,  24. 

The  character  of  a  government  may  be  read  in  tlie 
condition  of  its  subjects.  Are  the}^  turbulent — in 
their  habits  lawless,  in  their  religion  superstitious? 
with  coasts  full  of  harbors,  and  mountains  rich  in  min- 
erals, with  a  genial  climate  and  a  productive  soil,  are 
they  yet  clothed  in  rags,  housed  in  cabins,  steeped  to 
the  lips  in  poverty  ?  These  are  the  certain  signs  of 
bad  government.  Fields  overrun  with  weeds — fences 
falling  into  ruins — the  plough  rotting  in  the  flooded 
furrow — and  hungry  cattle  bellowing  on  scanty  pas- 
tures— these  are  the  sure  signs  of  bad  husbandry. 
And  yonder  ragged  family,  who  at  school  hours  are 
roaming  our  streets — the  unwashed  face  and  tangled 
hair  bespeaking  no  mother's  kindness — hunger  in  the 
hollow  eye,  and  pale,  emaciated  features — these  are 
the  sure  and  too  common  signs  of  an  unhappy  parent- 
age. They  suggest  the  picture  of  a  home  at  the  top 
of  some  filthy  stair,  or  in  some  foul  den  of  a  cellar, 
where  a  miserable  father,  the  neglected  victim  of  dis- 
ease and  poverty,  lies  stretched  upon  the  floor,  or — 
as  is  still  more  likely — where  a  brutal  drunkard  lives, 
the  tyrant  of  his  children,  and  the  terror  of  his  wife. 
Thus  we  judge  of  a  sovereign  by  his  subjects,  and 
thus  we  see  the  husbandman  in  his  farm,  and  the  fa- 
ther 'n  his  family. 


128  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

It  may  be — it  were  indeed  unfair — to  apply  this 
rule  to  our  Faith  and  its  Founder.  Yet  men  have 
done  so,  and  will  do  so ;  and  thus  the  cause  of  God 
and  religion  is  made  to  suffer  grievous  injury  at  the 
hand  of  its  nominal  friends.  By  their  coldness,  their 
worldliness,  their  selfishness,  their  open  sinfulness,  the 
little  apparent  difference  between  them  and  those  who 
make  no  profession  at  all — nay,  sometimes,  by  their 
glaring  inferiority  to  the  latter  in  the  blow  and  fruit 
of  the  natural  virtues — professing  Cliristians — like 
venders  of  a  bad  coinage,  have  exposed  genuine  piety 
to  suspicion,  and  inflicted  its  deepest  wounds  on  the 
cause  of  Christ.  Seeing  how,  in  natural  graces- 
kindness  of  heart — sweetness  of  temper — generosity — 
the  common  charities  of  life — mere  men  of  the  world 
lose  nothing  by  comparison  with  such  professors,  how 
are  you  to  keep  the  world  from  saying,  "  Ah  !  your 
man  of  religion  is  no  better  than  others ;  nay,  he  is 
sometimes  worse?"  With  what  frightful  prominence 
does  this  stand  out  in  the  answer — never  to  be  for- 
gotten answer — of  an  Indian  chief  to  the  missionary 
who  urged  him  to  be  a  Christian.  The  plumed  and 
painted  savage  drew  himself  up  in  the  consciousness 
of  superior  rectitude,  and,  with  indignation  quivering 
on  his  lip  and  flashing  in  his  eagle  eye,  replied, 
"  Christian  lie !  Christian  cheat !  Christian  steal ! — 
drink ! — murder  !  Christian  has  robbed  me  of  my 
lands  and  slain  my  tribe !"  adding,  as  he  turned  haugh- 
tily on  his  heel,  "the  Devil,  Christian  !  I  will  be  no 
Christian."  Let  such  reflections  teach  us  to  be  care- 
ful how  we  make  a  religious  profession ;  but  having 
made  it — cost  what  it  may  cost — to  be  careful  in  act- 
ing up  to  it.  "  It  is  better  not  to  vow,  than,  having 
vowed,  not  to  pay." 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  129 

These  remarks  are  suggested  by  the  fact  already 
adverted  to  in  the  previous  discourses — that  the  in- 
terests of  truth  and  the  name  of  God  suffered  in  Ba- 
bylon, in  consequence  botli  of  the  miserable  outward 
condition  and  still  more  miserable  moral  condition  of 
the  people  of  Israel.  Keduced  to  bondage,  sunk  lower 
still — for,  compared  to  a  sinner,  how  free  is  a  slave ! 
— they  exceeded  their  masters  in  crime,  and  went  to 
greater  excess  of  riot.  The  heathen — who  overlooked 
the  sins  of  which  their  misery  was  the  righteous  pun- 
ishment— naturally  enough  concluded,  that  the  God 
of  a  people  so  wretched  and  so  worthless,  must  be  a 
weak — perchance  a  wicked  one.  Thus  God's  name 
was  profaned,  and  Jehovah  himself  dishonored,  till  the 
time  arrived,  when,  arising  to  plead  the  cause  that 
was  his  own,  God  sanctified  his  great  name  in  the  for- 
tunes of  his  people,  and  in  the  sight  of  the  heathen. 

Passing  over  the  special  application  of  these  words 
to  the  Jews,  and  looking  at  them  in  their  prophetical 
connection  with  the  scheme  of  redemption,  I  now  re- 
mark— 

I.  That  God  might  have  vindicated  his  honor  and 
sanctified  his  name  in  our  destruction. 

He  sanctified  his  name  in  the  emancipation  of  his 
ancient  people.  When  by  one  blow  he  struck  th( 
fetters  from  a  nation's  limbs,  baptized  them  with  his 
Spirit,  gave  them  favor  in  the  sight  of  kings,  and 
brought  back  these  weary  exiles,  with  songs  and  glad- 
ness, to  Jerusalem,  then  God  was  sanctified  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  heathen.  His  power,  wisdom,  holi- 
ness, and  goodness,  were  illustrated  in  the  renewed 
character,  joyous  homes,  and  happy  fortunes  of  his 
people.  Now,  God  might  undoubtcdl}^  have  sancti* 
6* 


130  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

fied  himself  in  them  otherwise — vindicating  his  char, 
acter  in  such  destruction  upon  Zion,  as  he  here  threat- 
ens upon  Sidon — "  Behold,  I  am  against  thee,  O  Si- 
don,  and  I  will  be  glorified  in  the  midst  of  thee,  and 
the}^  shall  know  that  I  am  the  Lord  when  I  shall  Iiave 
executed  judgment  in  her,  and  shall  be  sanctified  in 
her ;  I  will  send  wn'th  her  pestilence  and  blood  into 
her  streets ;  and  they  shall  know  that  I  am  the  Lord." 
Two  methods  of  glorifying  his  name  are  open  to 
God.  He  is  free  to  choose  either ;  but  by  the  one  or 
the  other  way  he  will  exact  his  full  tale  of  glory  from 
every  man.  In  Egypt,  for  instance,  he  was  glorified 
in  the  high-handed  destruction  of  his  enemies;  and,  in 
the  same  land,  by  the  high-handed  salvation  of  his 
people.  In  the  one  case  he  proved  how  strong  his 
arm  was  to  smite,  and  in  the  other  how  strong  it  was 
to  save.  He  gave  Egypt's  king — ere  he  was  done 
with  him — a  terrible  answer  to  his  insolent  question, 
"  Who  is  the  Lord  that  I  should  serve  him  ?"  God 
was  sanctified  before  Pharaoh,  when,  hurrying  to  the 
banks  of  the  Nile,  and  turning  pale  at  the  sight,  he 
saw  them  filled  with  blood — blood  brimming  in  every 
goblet,  and  blood  flowing  in  every  channel.  God  was 
again  sanctified  before  Pharaoh,  when  he  saw  the  same 
skies  rain  ice  and  fire.  God  was  again  sanctified  be- 
fore Pharaoh,  when,  startled  at  midnight  by  a  nation's 
wail,  and  summoned  to  the  bed  of  his  heir  and  eldest 
born,  he  saw  him,  stiff  and  dead — smitten  by  the  an- 
gel of  death.  And  God  was  again  sanctified  before 
Pharaoh,  when — as  he  looked  along  the  watery  vista — 
he  sa\\r  Moses  come  down  in  the  grey  of  morning  to 
the  shore,  and  watching  the  last  Hebrew  safe  on 
land,  stretch  his  rod  out  upon  the  deep,  whose  waves, 
roaring    on  their  prey,  now  rush  from  either    flank 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  131 

on  the  power  of  Egypt,  and  bury  pale  rider  and 
snorting  horse — all  that  bannered  army — in  their 
whirling  waters.  The  sea  refused  God's  enemies  a 
grave.  She  flung  them  out  upon  her  shore.  Moses 
stands  over  the  body  of  the  king ;  and  as  he  gazes  on 
that  glassy  eye,  which  had  lost  its  haughtiness,  and 
those  lips,  whose  insolence  the  waters  had  washed 
away,  how  might  he  stoop  down,  and  say,  Now  you 
know  who  is  the  Lord  !  Oh  !  Had  the  seal  of  death 
been  broken — removed  from  these  blue,  discolored 
lips — theirs  had  been  this  solemn  utterance,  "  Let  the 
potsherds  strive  with  the  potsherds  of  the  earth  ;  woe 
to  the  man  that  striveth  with  his  Maker." 

In  like  manner,  God  sanctified  his  name  on  the 
plains  of  Sodom.  He  sanctified  it,  on  the  one  hand, 
in  the  destruction  of  his  enemies,  and  on  the  other, 
in  the  salvation  of  Lot.  Ah !  then  the  world  ceased 
to  doubt  his  character,  and  perhaps  angels  ceased  to 
wonder  that  such  wickedness  was  allowed  on  earth. 
The  light  of  the  city's  conflagration  illuminated  his  ho- 
liness, and  his  throne  rose  up  in  dread  and  awful  ma- 
jesty amid  the  smoking  ruins.  And  how  was  he 
sanctified  in  that  wretched  fugitive,  who  has  crossed 
but  half  the  plain  !  a  wife,  she  comes  not  to  a  husband's 
calls — a  mother,  she  stirs  not  to  her  children's  piercing 
cry.  Look  at  that  spectral  form  with  head  turned  on 
the  burning  ruins — a  woman,  stiffened  into  stone,  with 
her  cold  grey  eyes  staring  large  on  Sodom,  and  the 
surprise — horror — that  had  seized  her  soul,  as  she  felt 
her  warm  flesh  hardening  into  stone,  carved  on  these 
rigid  features  !  "  Kemember  Lot's  wife."  She  stands 
there  an  example  of  God's  power  to  sanctify  his  name, 
and  an  awful  lesson  to  the  end  of  time.  Deep  on  the 
statue's  stony  brow  these  words  are  engraven — "  No 


132  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

man  having  put  liis  hand  to  the  plough,  and  lookiuv,^ 
back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Since  there  are  two  wa3^s  open  to  God,  by  either  of 
which  he  may  sanctify  liis  great  name,  he  might  there- 
fore, at  the  Fall,  have  vindicated  his  justice  by  swift 
and  uns]>aring  vengeance — by  destroying  the  whole 
human  family.  He  did  so,  in  the  case  of  fallen  angels. 
Of  these,  there  was  no  wreck  or  remnant  saved.  Not 
one  escaped.  No  ark  floated  on  the  waters,  to  which, 
■ — like  Noah's  dove — a  flying  angel  pursued  by  wrath 
might  turn  his  weary  wing.  Can  it  be  doubted,  that 
the  measure  meted  out  to  fallen  angels,  God  might 
have  meted  out  to  fallen  men  ? — sanctifying  his  great 
name  in  our  ruin,  rather  than  in  our  redemption. 
Now,  before  I  show  how  he  sanctifies  himself  in  the 
redemption  of  his  people,  let  me  warn  you,  that  what 
God  might  have  done  with  all,  he  shall  do  with  some 
■ — with  all  indeed  who  despise,  or  refuse,  or  neglect 
this  great  salvation.  Yes ;  the  trees  shall  burn  that; 
will  not  bear.  Be  assured,  that  God  loses  nothing  in 
the  end.  He  will  make  his  own  use  of  every  man, 
extracting  glory  out  of  all— even  from  cumberers  of 
the  ground.  If  you  are  not  good  for  fruit,  you  shall 
serve  for  fuel.  God  is  not  willing  that  any  should 
perish  ;  willing,  most  willing,  rather  that  the  sinner 
should  live,  he  follows  him  to  the  very  gate  of  hell, 
crying,  "  turn  ye,  turn  ye,  why  will  ye  die  ?"  Yet  be 
warned  in  time ;  you  cannot  escape  the  alternative ; 
this  or  that  you  must  choose — to  honor  God  by  your 
active  or  your  passive  obedience.  God  help  you,  like 
Mary,  to  choose  the  better  part !  This  day,  I  set  be- 
fore you  "life  and  death."  Will  3^ou  do  his  will  in 
heaven,  or  suffer  it  in  hell?     How  terrible  the  words! 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  133 

''  God  hath  made  all  things  for  himself,  yea,  even   the 
wicked  for  the  day  of  wrath  " 

11.  God  sanclilies  his  name,  and  glorifies  himself 
in  our  redemption. 

It  is  easy  to  destroy — to  destroy  character,  virtue, 
hfe,  any  thing.  Falling  with  murderous  strokes  on 
yon  noble  tree,  the  woodman's  axe  destroys  in  a  few 
hours,  what  it  has  i-equired  centuiies  to  raise.  Look 
at  that  beautiful  gourd,  under  whose  green  and  grate- 
ful shade  the  prophet  sits !  Emblem  of  all  happiness 
that  has  its  root  in  earth,  it  falls  by  means  as  weak  as 
a  worm's  teeth;  the  poisonous  east  wind  breathes  on 
its  leaves,  the  hot  sun  glares  on  them,  and  they  wither 
away.  An  ounce  of  lead,  one  inch  of  steel,  a  drop 
distilled'from  a  serpent's  fang,  even  a  grain  of  sand 
lodged  in  the  passages  of  life — any  one  of  these  is  f  ital. 
They  turn  this  living,  delicate,  wondrous  fabric  into 
a  heap  of  undestinguishable  dust — a  handful  of  cold, 
black  ashes.  In  the  .body  man  destroys  what  God 
only  can  make,  and  in  this  more  precious  and  immor- 
tal soul,  Satan  destroys  what  God  only  can  save.  It 
needs  but  a  devil  to  ruin  the  spirit,  but  it  needs  a 
Divinity  to  redeem  it.  It  needs  but  a  villian  to  steal 
virtue,  it  needs  a  divine  power  to  restore  the  stolen 
jewel.  How  much  easier  is  it  to  kill  a  man  than  cure 
him?  To  be  an  executioner  than  a  physician?  To 
sit  robed  on  the  bench  of  justice,  and,  assuming 
her  fatal  cap,  to  condemn  a  poor  wretch  to  die ; 
to  draw  the  bolt  and  launch  a  soul  into  another 
world ;  to  stand  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  with  leveled 
musket — by  a  motion  of  the  finger — to  dash  a  fellow 
creature  into  eternity — these  are  easier  than  to  bless 
with  one  hour's  sleep  a  bed  of  pain.     It  is  easier  to 


134.  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Stop  tills  pulse  for  ever,  than  bring  down  its  death 
gallop  to  the  calm  and  measured  march  of  health. 
And  as,  in  such  cases,  man's  glory  is  more  illustrated 
by  curing  than  by  killing,  so  God's  glory  is  more  pre- 
eminent in  our  redemption  than  it  had  been  in  our 
final  and  everlasting  ruin. 

Excepting  of  course  the  preacher's — for  with  Paul 
we  magnify  our  office — of  all  earthly  employments  it 
appears  to  me  that  the  physician's  is  the  noblest,  and 
that  of  all  arts  the  healing  art  is  the  highest,  and  offers 
to  genius  and  benevolence  their  noblest  field.  Casting 
no  disparagement  on  the  brave  and  gallant  spirits 
who  have  guarded  a  country's  shores — and  some  of 
whom  falling  in  the  ranks  of  battle  have  offered  noble 
examples  of  soldiers,  true  both  to  an  earthly  crown 
and  a  Saviour's  cross — yet  we  know  that  the  aim  of  a 
warrior  is  ingeniously  to  invent,  and  his  business 
effectively  to  use,  instruments  of  destruction.  His 
greatest  achievements  are  wrought  where  deadly 
wounds  are  suffered ;  his  proudest  triumphs  are  won 
where  burning  cities  blaze  over  blood-stained  hearths, 
and,  horrible  to  think  of!  where  fields  are  fattened 
with  human  gore  ;  his  laurels  are  watered  with  tears ; 
his  course,  like  the  hurricane,  is  marked  by  destruc- 
tion ;  and  it  is  his  unhappy  lot — perhaps  the  unhappi- 
est  view  of  arms  as  a  profession — that  he  cannot  con- 
quer foes  but  at  tne  sacrifice  of  friends.  Kow,  in  the 
eye  of  reason,  and  of  a  humanity  that  weeps  over  a- 
suiiering  world,  his  is  surely  the  nobler  vocation — 
and,  if  not  more  honored — the  more  honorable  call- 
ing who  sheds  blood,  not  to  kill,  but  cure;  who 
wounds  not  that  the  wounded  may  die,  but  live;  and 
whose  genius  ransacks  earth  and  ocean  in  search  of 
means  to  save  life,  to  remove  deformity,,  to   repair  de 


GOD   GLORIFIED    IN  REDEMPTION.  135 

cay,  to  invigorate  failing  powers,  and  restore  the  rose 
of  health  to  pallid  cheeks.  His  aim  is  not  to  inflict  pain, 
but  relieve  it — not  to  destroy  a  father,  but — standing 
between  him  and  death — to  save  his  trembling  wife 
from  widowliood,  and  these  little  children  from  an  or- 
phan's lot.  And  if,  although  they  be  wove  round 
no  coronet,  those  are  fairer  and  fresher  laurels  which 
are  won  by  saving  than  by  slaying ;  if  it  is  a  nobler 
thing  to  rescue  life  than  destroy  it,  even  when  its  des- 
truction is  an  act  of  justice ;  then,  on  the  same  princi- 
ple, God  most  glorified  himself  when  revealed  in  the 
flesh,  and  speaking  by  his  Son,  he  descended  on  a 
guilty  world, — this  his  purpose — "I  came  not  to 
judge  the  world,  but  to  save  it," — and  this  his  charac- 
ter— "  The  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long- 
suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth." 

Apart,  however,  from  this  general  consideration,  I 
remark  that  the  scheme  of  redemption  is  eminently 
illustrative  of  the  attributes  of  Jehovah.  For  ex- 
ample — 

I.  His  power  is  glorified  in  the  work  of  salvation. 

Its  path  is  marked,  and  its  pages  are  crowded  with 
stupendous  miracles.  At  one  time  God  stays  the 
waves  of  the  sea,  at  another  he  stops  the  wheels  of  the 
sun,  and,  now  reversing  the  machinery  of  heaven  to 
confirm  his  word,  he  makes  the  shadow  travel  back- 
wards on  the  dial  of  Ahaz.  Heaven  descends  to  earth, 
and  its  inhabitants  walk  the  stage  of  a  world's  redemp- 
tion. Here  one  angel  speaks  out  of  a  burning  bush, 
and  there  another  leaps  on  a  burning  altar,  and,  with 
wing  unscorched,  ascends  to  heaven  in  its  flame.  Here 
a  prophet,  exempted  from  the  law  of  death,  goes  up 
to  glory  in  a   fiery  chariot,  and  there  another  in  the 


136  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

belly  of  a  whale  goes  down  into  the  depths  of  oc^Ai. 
In  contradiction  of  the  law^s  of  nature,  a  body  thai 
should  have  gravitated  to  the  earth,  floats,  from  the 
top  of  Olivet,  upward  into  the  ambient  air.  Across  a 
lake  which  frost  never  bound,  and  winter  never  paved 
with  ice,  walks  a  human  form,  stepping  on  from  billow- 
to  billow.  The  tenant  of  the  grave  becomes  its  con- 
queror, and,  laying  by  its  cerements  as  night-clothes 
left  in  bed,  he  walks  forth  on  the  dewy  grass  at  the 
break  of  day ;  the  prisoner  has  bound  his  jailer  and 
carried  off  the  keys.  Over  Bethlehem's  fields,  angels 
with  the  light  of  their  wings  turn  night  into  day,  and 
shepherds,  who  watch  their  flocks,  are  regaled  by 
voices  of  the  skies — the  song  of  heaven  over  a  babe, 
who  has  a  poor  woman  for  his  mother,  and  a  stable 
for  his  birth-place.  Nor  less  remarkable,  the  deaf  are 
listening  to  the  songs  of  the  dumb,  and  the  blind  are 
gazing  on  the  dead  alive ;  a  dumb  beast  takes  human 
speech  and  rebukes  the  hoary  sage ;  ravens  leave 
their  young  to  cater  in  the  fields  for  man ;  and  angels 
abandon  heaven  to  hold  sentinel  watch  by  the  grave 
of  One  whom  God  forsook,  his  country  rejected,  friends 
repudiated,  and  none  but  a  thief  confessed.  And  amid 
these  wonders  and  thousands  more,  acted  before  men's 
eyes  on  the  stage  of  redemption,  and  all  so  illustrative 
of  the  presence  and  power  of  God,  the  greatest  wonder 
— the  wonder  of  wonders — is  He  that  works  them; 
the  Son  of  a  virgin  !  dust  and  Divinity  !  Creator  and 
creature  I  "  the  mystery  of  godliness,  God  manifest  in 
the  flesh."  Truly,  "This  is  the  Lord's  doing;  it  is 
marvelous  in  our  eyes." 

But  to  glance  at  the  change  wrought  m  redemption 
on  man  himself,  what  amazing  power  does  it  display ! 
What  a  glorious  combination  of  benevolence  and  om- 


GOD   GLORIFIED    IN   REDEMPTION.  137 

nipotence !  Punisliment  is  confessedly  easier  than 
reformation,  Nothing  is  more  eas}^  than  to  rid  society 
of  a  criminal  by  the  hand  of  an  executioner ;  but  to 
soften  his  stony  heart,  to  get  him  to  fall  in  love  with 
virtue,  to  make  him  an  honest,  honorable,  kind,  and 
tender  man,  to  guide  his  erring  steps  from  the  paths 
of  crim.e — ah  !  that  is  another  thing.  Hence,  by  men 
callous  of  heart,  and  deaf  to  the  groans  of  suffering 
humanity,  the  preference  given  to  prisons  over  schools, 
to  punishment  over  prevention.  Well,  then,  since  it 
is  confessedly  easier — easier,  not  better;  easier,  not  in 
the  end  cheaper — to  punish  than  reform,  I  say  that 
God's  power  is  more  illustriously  displayed  in  par- 
doning one  guilty — in  purifying  one  polluted  man, 
than  if  the  law  had  been  left  to  take  her  sternest 
course,  and  our  entire  family  had  been  buried  in  the 
ruins  of  the  fall.  We  lionor  justice  when  she  holds 
the  balance  even,  and  before  a  land  that  cries  for  blood, 
brings  out  the  murderer  to  hang  him  up  in  the  face 
of  the  sun:  "whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man 
shall  his  blood  be  shed."  Yet,  like  the  Romans,  who 
decreed  a  crown  to  him  that  saved  a  citizen,  we  would 
hold  him  worthy  of  highest  honors  who  brings  forth 
a  criminal  from  his  cell,  so  changed  as  to  be  worthy, 
not  only  of  being  restored  to  the  bosom  of  societ}^ 
but  of  holding  a  place  in  the  senate,  or  some  post  of 
dignity  beside  the  throne.  That  were  an  achievement, 
of  brilliant  renown — a  victory  over  which  humanity 
and  piety  would  shed  tears  of  joy. 

To  compare  small  things  with  great,  something  like 
this — but  unspeakably  nobler  and  greater — God  works 
in  salvation.  For  example — In  John  Bunyan,  he 
calls  the  bold  leader  of  village  reprobates  to  preach 
the  gospel  ;  a  blaspheming  tinker  to  become  one  oi 


138  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

England's  famous  confessors;  and  from  tbe  gloomy 
portals  of  Bedford  jail,  to  shed  forth  the  luster  of  his 
sanctified  and  resplendent  genius  to  the  farther  limits 
of  the  world,  and  adown  the  whole  course  of  time. 
From  the  deck  of  a  slave  ship  he  summons  John 
Newton  to  the  pulpit;  and  by  hands  defiled  with 
Mammon's  most  neforious  traffic,  he  brings  them  that 
are  bound  out  of  darkness,  and  smites  adamantine 
fetters  from  the  slaves  of  sin.  In  Paul,  the  Apostle 
of  the  Gentiles,  he  converts  his  Son's  bitterest  enemy 
into  his  warmest  friend.  To  the  man  whom  a  trem- 
bling church  held  most  in  dread,  she  comes  to  owe, 
under  God,  the  weightiest  obligations.  In  Paul  she 
has  her  boldest  champion,  her  greatest  logician,  the 
most  gallant  of  her  defenders,  her  grandest  preacher, 
the  prince  of  Apostles,  the  largest  contributor  to  this 
imperishable  volume.  How  much  better  for  these 
three  stars  to  be  shining  in  heaven,  than  quenched  in 
the  blackness  of  darkness.  Better  for  the  good  of 
man — better  for  the  glory  of  God.  In  them,  and  in 
all  the  sainted  throng  around  them,  has  not  God  more 
illustriously  displayed  his  power,  than  if  he  had 
crushed  them  by  the  thunders  of  his  vengeance,  and 
buried  them  in  the  depths  of  hell?  The  power  of 
Divinity  culminates  in  grace.  Oh,  that  we  may  be- 
come its  monuments,  and  be  built  up  by  the  hands  of 
an  eternal  Spirit,  to  the  glory  of  the  cross !  And  why 
not  ?  Look  at  these  men  !  Think  what  they  were ; . 
behold  what  they  are!  and,  addressing  jonr  prayers 
to  him  whose  ear  is  never  heavy  that  it  cannot  hear, 
nor  his  hand  shortened  that  it  cannot  save,  be  this 
your  earnest,  your  urgent  cry,  "Awake,  awake,  put 
on  strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord.  Awake,  as  in  the 
ancient  days  in  the  generations  of  old." 


Clje  G^ali.^hm  lint)  fjioliiuis^  of  §oiJ, 

ILLUSTRATED    BY  SALYATIOX. 


Aj^d  I  will  sanctify  my  great  name  which  ye  have  profaned 

EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  23, 

The  effect  of  the  wind  is  visible,  not  the  element 
itsolf.  The  clouds  scud  across  the  sky,  the  trees  swing 
tlirir  arms  wildly  in  the  air,  aerial  waves  chase  each 
other  in  sport  across  the  corn,  and  the  boat,  catching 
the  gale  in  her  flowing  sheet,  goes  dancing  over  the 
billows.  So — although  in  a  sense  infinitely  higher — 
the  Invisible  is  visible ;  and  in  his  works  we  see  a 
God,  who,  seeing  all,  remains  himself  unseen.  He  is 
lost,  not  in  darkness,  but  in  light;  He  is  a  sun  that 
blinds  the  eye  which  is  turned  on  its  burning  disc. 
Angels  themselves  are  unable  to  sustain  his  glory. 
They  cover  their  faces  with  their  wings,  and  use  them, 
as  a  man  his  hand,  to  screen  their  eyes  from  the  ineffa- 
ble effulgence. 

Suppose  that  we  ascend  the  steps  of  creation,  from 
matter  in  its  crudest  form  to  nature's  highest  and  most 
beautiful  arrangements ;  from  the  lichen  that  clothes 
a  rock  to  the  oak  that  stands  rooted  in  its  crevices; 
from  the  dull  coal  to  the  same  mineral  crystalized  in 
a  flashing  diamond;  from  a  dew-drop,  lying  in  the 
cup  of  a  flower,  to  the  great  ocean  that  lies  in  the  hol- 
low of  its  Maker's  hand ;  from  a  spark  that  expires  in 
the  moment  of  its  birth,  to  the  sun  which  has  risen 
and  set  with  unabated   splendor  on  the  graves  of  a 


140  THE   GOSPEL    IN"   EZEKIEL. 

hundred  generations;  from  the  instinct  of  the  moth, 
that  flatters  round  a  taper,  to  the  intellect  uf  an  angel, 
who  hovers  before  the  throne;  from  a  grain  of  sand 
to  this  vast  globe;  from  this  world  to  a  creation  in 
extent,  perhaps,  as  much  greater  than  our  planet  as  it 
is  greater  than  the  grain  of  sand:  As  we  climb  up 
wards,  step  by  step,  our  views  of  God's  glory  enlarge. 
They  rise  with  our  elevation,  and  expand  with  the 
widenhig  prospect.  At  length  we  reach  a  pinnacle 
where  the  whole  heavens  and  earth  lie  spread  out  be- 
neath our  feet ; — and  reach  it  to  foil  on  our  knees, 
and,  catching  the  strain  of  adoring  seraphim,  to  ex- 
claim, "Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the 
whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory !" 

It  is  not  given  to  man  to  discover  all  the  works  and 
ways  of  God.  No;  with  our  boasted  discoveries  and 
pride  of  science,  perhaps  these  are  as  little  known  to 
us  as  the  unbroken  forest  to  the  microscopic  insect, 
whose  life  is  a  day,  and  whose  world  is  a  leaf— that 
little  decaying  leaf,  the  scene  of  its  most  distant  jour- 
neys, its  country,  its  cradle,  its  grave.  With  what  mod- 
esty, then,  should  the  highest  intellect  bow  down  and 
bear  itself  in  presence  of  its  Creator !  Let  the  patri- 
arch, in  language  worthy  of  so  high  a  theme,  describe 
his  majesty.  "  He  stretcheth  out  the  north  over  the 
empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon  nothing.  He 
holdeth  back  the  face  of  his  throne,  and  spreadeth  his 
cloud  upon  it.  He  hath  compassed  the  waters  with 
bounds,  until  the  day  and  night  come  to  an  end.  The 
pillars  of  heaven  tremble  and  are  astonished  at  his  re- 
proof; he  divideth  the  sea  w^ith  his  power,  and  by  his 
understanding  he  smiteth  through  the  proud ;  by  his 
spirit  he  hath  garnished  the  heavens ;  his  hand  hath 
formed  the  crooked  serpent ;  lo,  these  are  parts  of  his 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  141 

wSijB ;  but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him  ?  but 
the  thunder  of  Iiis  power  who  can  understand  ?"  Un- 
believer as  he  was,  the  great  Laplace  echoed  these 
sentiments  of  Job,  in  this,  one  of  his  last  and  not 
least  memorable  utterances — ''It  is  the  little  that  we 
know  ;  it  is  the  great  that  remains  unknown."  And 
in  the  confession  of  his  ignorance,  has  not  a  Christian, 
and  stil.  greater  philosopher,  left  us  perhaps  the  finest 
illustration  of  his  wisdom?  Newton's  most  brilliant 
discoveries  reflect  no  brighter  luster  on  Newton's 
name  than  his  well  known  comparison  of  himself  to  a 
little  child — a  child  who  bad  gathered  some  few 
pebbles  on  the  shores  of  a  vast  and  unexplored  ocean. 

Man,  however — although  comprehending  but  little 
of  the  ways  of  God — is  privileged  to  contemplate,  and 
is  in  himself  honored  to  illustrate,  the  noblest  of  them 
all.  He  may  be  a  beggar,  but,  if  grace  has  made  him 
a  new  creature,  there  is  more  of  God  seen  beneath  his 
rags  than  in  the  sun  itself;  nor  does  that  brilliant  sky 
studded  thick  with  stars  reveal  the  glorious  fullness  of 
Divinity  that  shines  in  the  cross  of  Calvary  and  the 
flice  of  Jesus.  Bethlehem  Ephratah  was  "little  among 
the  cities  of  Judah."  Oar  world  also  seems  little 
among  the  suns  and  systems  of  creation — a  dark,  dim, 
insignificant  spot;  yet  the  eyes  of  the  universe  have 
been  turned  on  our  planet.  It  has  all  the  importance 
spiritually,  which  physically  was  attributed  to  it, 
when  men  supposed  it  to  be  the  pivot  and  center  of 
creation. 

Man's  world  is  the  place  in  the  great  universe  from 
which  God  and  his  attributes  may  be  best  beheld  and 
studied.  It  corresponds  to  that  one  spot  in  a  noble 
temple — lying  right  beneath  the  lofty  dome — where 
the  spectator,  commanding  all  the  grandest  features 


142  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

of  the  edifice,  is  instructed  to  look  around  him,  if  he 
would  see  the  monument  of  its  architect.  For  where 
can  we  see  God  as  we  behold  him  on  the  cross  and  in 
the  gospel  ?  I  scale  bartizan  or  tower  to  embrace  at 
one  view  the  map  of  a  mighty  city.  I  climb  the  sides 
of  some  lofty  hill  to  survey  the  land  that  lies  in  beauty 
at  its  feet.  And  had  I  the  universe  to  range  over, 
where  should  I  go  to  obtain  the  fullest  exhibition  of 
the  Godhead  ?  Would  I  soar  on  angel-wings  to  the 
heights  of  heaven  to  look  on  its  happiness,  and  listen 
to  angel's  hymns?  Would  I  cleave  the  darkness, 
and — sailing  round  the  edge  of  the  fiery  gulf — listen 
to  the  wail,  and  weep  over  the  misery  of  the  lost? 
No;  turning  away  alike  from  these  sunny  heights 
and  doleful  regions,  I  would  remain  in  this  world  of 
ours;  and,  traveling  to  Palestine,  would  stand  be- 
neath the  dome  of  heaven  with  my  feet  on  Calvary — 
on  that  consecrated  spot,  where  the  cross  of  salvation 
rose,  and  the  blood  of  a  Kedeemer  fell.  Here  I  find 
the  center  of  a  spiritual  universe.  Here  the  hosts  of 
heaven  descended  to  acquaint  themselves  with  God  in 
Christ ;  here,  in  a  completed  arch,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
locked  fast  by  the  key,  all  the  properties  of  Divinity 
meet;  here,  concentrated  as  in  a  burning  focus,  its 
varied  attributes  blend  and  shine. 

We  had  begun  to  show  how  these  attributes  were 
exhibited  in  the  work  of  redemption  ;  and  having 
illustrated  this  in  the  power  of  God,  we  now  remark 
that — 

I.  The  wisdom  of  God  is  glorified  in  redemption. 

The  British  Museum  possesses  in  the  Portland  Yase 
one  of  the  finest  remains  of  ancient  art ;  and  it  may 
be  remembered  how — some  years  ago — the  world  of 


GOD   GLOKIFIED   IN    REDEMPTION.  143 

taste  was  shocked  to  hear  that  this  precious  relic  had 
been  shattered  by  a  maniac's  hand.  Without  dis- 
paraging classic  taste  or  this  exquisite  example  of  it, 
I  venture  to  say,  that  there  is  not  a  poor  worm  which 
we  tread  upon,  nor  a  sere  leaf,  that,  like  a  ruined  but 
reckless  man,  dances  merrily  in  its  fallen  state  to  the 
autumn  winds,  but  has  superior  claims  upon  our 
study  and  admiration.  The  child  who  plucks  a  lily 
or  rose  to  pieces,  or  crushes  the  fragile  form  of  a  flut- 
tering insect,  destroys  a  work  which  the  highest  art 
could  not  invent,  nor  man's  best  skilled  hand  con- 
struct. And  there  was  not  a  leaf  quivered  on  the 
trees  which  stood  under  the  domes  of  the  crystal 
palace,  but  eclipsed  the  brightest  glories  of  loom  or 
chisel ;  it  had  no  rival  among  the  triumphs  of  inven- 
tion, which  a  world  went  there  to  see.  Yes ;  in  his 
humblest  works,  God  infinitely  surpasses  the  highest 
efforts  of  created  skill.  "Wisdom  is  justified  of  her 
children ;"  nor  shall  our  God  be  left  without  a  wit- 
ness so  long  as  thunders  peal  and  lightnings  flash, 
and  breakers  beat  upon  the  shore;  so  long  as  a 
flower  blooms  in  the  field,  a  fin  cleaves  the  deep,  or  a 
wing  cuts  the  air;  so  long  as  glowing  suns  blaze 
above,  or  dying  glow-worms  shine  below.  That  man 
gave  the  Atheist  a  crushing  answer,  who  told  him 
that  the  very  feather  with  which  he  penned  the  words, 
"There  is  no  God,"  refuted  the  audacious  lie. 

In  redemption  this  wisdom  is  pre-eminent.  That 
work  associates  such  amazing  wisdom  with  love,  and 
power,  and  mercy,  that  the  Saviour  of  man  is  called 
*'  the  wisdom  of  God."  The  Apostle  selects  the  defi- 
nite article,  and  pronounces  Christ  to  be  "  the  power 
of  God  and  tlie  wisdom  of  God."  Can  any  doubt  the 
propriety  of  the  language,  who  reflects  but  for  a  mo- 


144  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

ment  on  what  a  hard  task  wisdom  was  set — what  a 
difficult  problem  she  was  called  to  solve — when  man 
was  to  be  saved?  She  had  to  forge  a  key  that  should 
"unlock  the  grave ;  she  had  to  buiki  a  life-boat  that 
should  live  in  a  sea  of  fire;  she  had  to  construct  a 
ladder  long  enough  and  strong  enough  to  scale  the 
skies;  she  was  called  on  to  invent  a  plan  whereby 
justice  might  be  fully  satisfied,  and  yet  the  guilty 
saved.  The  highest  intelligences  had  been  at  fault 
here — they  might  well  have  asked,  who  is  sufficient 
for  these  things?  "He  saw  that  there  was  no  man, 
and  wondered  that  there  was  no  intercessor."  Tn 
such  an  emergency — for  such  a  task — wisdom  suf- 
ficient dwelt  only  with  the  Godhead — in  him  in 
whom  "are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge."  "How  shall  man  be  just  with  God,"  is 
a  mystery  insolvable  to  all  but  Him  in  whom  the 
most  extraordinary  and  apparently  conflicting  ele- 
ments have  met; — who  has  a  double  nature  in  a 
single  person — who  has  a  divine  Father  and  human 
mother,  who  is  the  only  begotten  of  God  and  first- 
born of  a  virgin  womb — who,  being  in  one  sense  dust, 
in  another  sense  Divinity,  has  a  nature  to  satisfy  and 
a  nature  to  suffer. 

Now,  this  wisdom  of  God  in  redemption  is  brought 
out  in  no  aspect  more  strikingly  than  in  the  harmony 
which  it  has  established  among  what  appeared  con- 
flicting attributes.  Here  is  nothing  like  the  prophet's 
graphic  picture  of  a  city,  where  chariots  jostle  each 
other  on  the  streets;  nor  like  what  happens  even  on 
the  spacious  ocean,  when  in  the  gloom  of  night  bark 
dashes  into  bark,  and  foundering  crews  find  in  their 
ship  a  coffin,  and  in  the  deep  sea  their  grave.  Har- 
mony, indeed,  sits  enthroned  amid  the  order  of  the 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  145 


silent  heavens.  Flaming  sun,  and  wandering  comet, 
and  rolling  planets,  move  in  their  orbits  without  acci- 
dent or  collision ;  yet  in  the  harmony  established 
among  the  attributes  of  God,  redemption  illustrates  a 
higher  wisdom.  There  is  one  fact,  which  brings  this 
out  very  palpably.  With  the  deepest  interests  at 
stake — in  circumstances  eminently  fitted  to  sharpen 
his  ingenuity — man  never  approached,  nor  so  much 
as  guessed  at,  the  only  method  of  salvation.  We  can 
show  how  near  preceding  philosophers  have  been  to 
tlie  later  discoveries  of  science.  For  many  centuries 
before  their  practical  application,  China  was  acquainted 
with  the  properties  both  of  gunpowder  and  the  mag- 
net ;  and  have  not  we  seen  one  astronomer  get  upon 
the  track  of  a  star,  and  start  a  thought,  by  which 
another — who  pursued  it  to  its  ultimate  conclusions — 
has  been  conducted  to  the  brilliant  discovery?  Every 
one  acquainted  with  the  history  of  science  knows  that 
some  of  the  greatest  inventions  of  the  nineteenth  cen 
tury  were  all  but  anticipated  at  former  and  even  re- 
mote periods  ;  another  step — but  another  step — and 
the  world  had  possessed  them  ages  before, — and,  cen- 
turies ago,  man  would  have  steered  his  way  across  the 
sea  by  the  compass  needle — yoked  the  spirits  of  fire 
and  water  to  his  triumphant  wheels — and  sent  mes- 
sages across  oceans  and  continents  on  the  wings  of 
lio'htnino-. 

The  mystery  of  godliness,  however — God  manifest 
i.i  the  flesh — a  Daysman  such  as  the  patriarch  desired 
— with  the  right  hand  of  Divinity  to  lay  on  God,  and 
the  left  hand  of  humanity  to  lay  on  man,  and  thus  the 
"fellow"  and  friend  of  both,  to  reconcile  them — in 
short,  a  man  to  suffer  and  a  God  to  satisfy,  this  was  a 
thought  which  it  never  entered  the  mind  of  man  to 


146  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIKL. 

conceive.  We  find  nothing  corresponding  to  this  in 
the  creeds  and  religions  of  a  heathen  world.  There  ia 
neither  glimpse  nor  glimmering  of  it  in  these.  Every 
way  but  the  right  one  was  thought  of.  Here,  the  sin- 
ner seeks  by  his  own  works  to  work  out  redemption  ; 
here,  by  costly  sacrifices,  he  attempts  to  appeaso 
offended  justice;  here,  in  children — whom  he  offer;? 
on  the  altar,  or  passes  through  the  fire  to  Moloch — 
he  gives  the  "  fruit  of  his  body  for  the  sin  of  his 
soul ;"  here  again — doing  less  violence  to  nature — 
guilty  of  a  crime  less  contrary  to  reason  and  revolting 
to  humanity,  he  courts  death  beneath  the  wheels  of 
Juggernaut,  and  sheds  the  blood  of  his  body  to  expi- 
ate the  guilt  of  his  soul.  These  were  the  sands  on 
which  man  built  his  house.  These  were  the  straws 
drowning  men  caught  at.  There  never  entered  into 
other  mind  than  God's  a  plan,  or  shadow  of  a  plan,  by 
which  sweet  Mercy  might  be  espoused  to  stern  Jus- 
tice, and  God — in  the  luster  of  untarnished  holiness, 
and  the  majesty  of  a  vindicated  law — might  appear, 
as  he  appears  in  Jesus,  the  "just  and  yet  the  justifier 
of  the  ungodly." 

II.  The  holiness  of  God  is  glorified  in  redemption. 

The  eyes  are  moved  by  the  heart,  as  the  hands  of  a 
time-piece  are  turned  by  the  internal  machinery.  We 
turn  them  to  what  the  heart  loves,  and  from  what  the 
heart  loathes.  The  most  emphatic  expression  of  dis- 
like is  a  silent  one — the  closed  eyes  and  averted  head. 
Such  an  attitude  as  I  can  fancy  Zedekiah's  to  have 
been,  when  they  brought  out  his  sons  to  slay  them  in 
their  father's  presence.  And  "  to  wound  him  that 
God  had  smitten,"  to  add  a  crushins:  weight  to  his 
captivity  and  chains,  to  imprint  a  spectacle  on  his 


GOD   GLORIFIED  IN    REDEMPTION.  147 

memory,  that  should  haunt  him  like  a  horrid  specter, 
when  sight  was  quenched  and  hope  for  ever  gone,  his 
barbarous  enemies  put  the  sons  to  death  before  thej 
put  out  the  father's  eyes.  When  you  have  in  fancy 
imagined  yourself  in  that  father's  place,  imagining 
how,  when  you  had  implored  them  to  begin  with  you, 
and  save  3^ou  this  horrid  sight,  and  they  had  refused 
the  favor  of  these  burning  irons,  how  you  would  have 
closed  your  eyes,  and  turned  shuddering  away,  you 
will  be  able  in  some  measure  to  appreciate  the  abhor- 
rence with  which  a  holy  God  regards  iniquity.  Hear 
the  prophet — "  Thou  art  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold 
evil,  and  canst  not  look  on  iniquity." 

Nothing  might  appear  more  strongly  to  express  the 
holiness  of  God  than  this  language,  "  Thou  canst  not 
look  on  iniquit}^ ;"  and  yet  his  hatred  of  sin  is,  be- 
3'ond  doubt,  much  more  fally  expressed  by  the  very 
way  in  which  he  saves  the  sinner;  more  fully  ex- 
pressed in  redemption,  than  if,  executing  relentless 
vengeance,  with  an  eye  that  knew  no  pity,  and  with 
a  hand  that  would  not  spare,  he  had  made  an  utter 
end  of  sinners — such  an  end  that,  to  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  the  prophet,  "  there  was  none  that  moved 
the  wing,  or  opened  the  mouth,  or  peeped."  What 
man,  what  father,  has  not  felt  so  on  reading  the  story 
of  the  Eoman  judge  ?  Had  that  stern  patriot  con- 
demned common  criminals  enough  to  make  the  scaf- 
folds of  justice  and  the  gutters  of  Eome  run  red  with 
blood,  that  wholesale  slaughter  had  been  a  weak  ex- 
pression of  his  abhorrence  of  crime,  compared  with 
the  death  of  this  solitary  youth.  When  the  culprit — 
his  own  child,  the  infant  he  had  carried  in  his  arms, 
his  once  sweet  and  beautiful  boy,  the  child  of  his  ten. 
derest  affections,  who  had  wound  himself  round  a 


148  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

father's  heart — rose  and  received  the  immolating  sen- 
tence at  a  father's  lips,  oh  !  t4iat  iron  man  offered  the 
costliest  sacrifice  man  ever  made  at  the  shrine  of  jus 
tice,  and  earned  for  Eoman  virtue  a  proverbial  fame. 
But  that  is  nothing  to  the  spectacle  which  redemp- 
tion offers.  Over  what  are  these  angels  hovering  ? 
On  what  do  they  bend  a  gaze  so  fixed,  so  intent,  so 
full  of  awe  and  wonder?  Sons  of  the  morning!  they 
had  sung  in  their  joy  over  a  new-born  world.  Attend- 
ants at  the  birth  of  earth  !  they  now  hail  with  intenser 
wonder,  and  praise  in  loftier  strains,  the  birth  in  a 
stable,  the  appearance  of  a  babe  in  Bethlehem.  They 
had  seen  suns  blazing  into  light ;  they  had  seen  worlds 
start  into  being,  and  watched  them  as,  receiving  their 
first  impulse  from  the  Creator's  hand,  they  rolled  away 
into  the  far  realm  of  space ;  but  never  had  they  fol- 
lowed world  or  sun  with  such  interest  as  they  follow 
the  weary  steps  of  this  Traveler  from  his  humble 
cradle  to  the  cross  of  Calvary.  What  draws  all  their 
eyes  to  that  sacred  spot?  what  keeps  them  gazing  on 
it  with  looks  of  such  solemn  interest  ?  The  Son  of 
God  dies  beneath  his  Father's  hand.  Innocence  bleeds 
for  guilt ;  divine  innocence  for  human  guilt ;  a  spec- 
tacle at  which,  in  the  mysterious  language  of  the 
Apocalypse,  "  There  was  silence  in  heaven."  On  the 
night  Daniel  passed  in  the  lion's  den  the  Persian 
would  hear  no  music ; — nor  flute,  nor  harp,  nor 
psaltery,  nor  dulcimer,  woke  the  echoes  of  his  palace ; 
the  daughters  of  music  were  all  brought  low.  God's 
Son  is  dying  on  the  tree.  I  can  fancy  that  during 
these  dread  hours  there  was  no  music  in  heaven — 
there  was  an  awful  pause  ;  silent  every  harp,  hushed 
the  voice  of  song ;  and  \^hen  all  is  over,  and  the  cry, 
*'It  is  finished,"  has  been  heard,  and  the  last  quiver 


GOD  GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  149 

has  passed  from  Jesus'  lips,  I  can  fancy  how  these 
angels  broke  the  awful  silence,  and,  turning  round  to 
the  throne,  with  new,  deeper,  holier  reverence,  ex 
claimed,   "  Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty." 

This  holiness,  so  glorified  in  redemption,  appear; 
still  more  plainly,  when  we  consider  how  the  eyes  ol 
Love  both  multiply  and  magnify  beauties ;  and,  over- 
looking all  defects,  reconcile  us  even  to  deformity. 
How  beautifully,  tenderly,  touchingly,  affection  clings 
.0  an  idiot  child  !  and  with  what  ingenuity  does  Love 
palliate  in  our  children  faults  which  are  tolerable  and 
'olerated  in  no  one  else.  She  flings  a  broad  mantle 
Dver  the  shame  of  child  and  parent,  brother,  sister, 
and  friend.  See  how  Eli — a  too  indulgent  parent — 
tolerates  crimes  in  his  sons,  which  it  is  only  doing 
this  holy  man  justice  to  believe,  he  would  have  died 
rather  than  have  himself  committed.  Now,  in  our 
judgment,  the  holiness  of  God  shines  very  conspicu- 
ously in  this,  that,  even  when  sin  was  associated  with 
his  beloved  Son,  it  appeared  none  the  less  vile  in  his 
eyes;  perhaps  viler,  fouler,  still  more  loathsome, — 
just  as  the  churchyard  mould,  flung  by  the  sexton 
from  a  grave  upon  winter's  fresh  fallen  snow,  looks 
the  blacker  for  the  contrast,  Love  would  have  spared 
the  pains  of  a  beloved  Son,  but  it  is  met  and  mas- 
tered by  God's  hatred  of  sin.  He  looks  on  our  sins 
as  laid  on  Christ,  and  still  he  hates  therti  with  a  per- 
fect hatred,  turning  on  him,  that  bare  them  on  his  own 
body  on  the  tree,  an  unmitigated  vengeance.  To  reach 
Bin — to  kill  sin — he  passes  the  sword  through  the 
bosom  of  his  well-beloved  Son  ;  and  if  he  did  not 
spare  even  his  own  Son  when  he  took  our  sins  upon 
him,  oh  !  what  holiness  in  God  !  Whom  will  he  spare? 
What  will  he  soare  ?     What  a  startling  alarum  is  rung 


150  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

from  Calvary  in  the  ears  of  a  drowsy  world  I  With 
your  eye  on  the  cross,  w^ithin  sight  of  its  agonies, 
within  sound  of  its  groans,  I  ask  the  question,  and  I 
wait  for  an  answer.  If  he  did  not  spare  his  own 
Son,  how  shall  he  spare  the  impenitent  and  unbeliev- 
ing ?  "If  they  do  these  things  in  a  green  tree,  what 
shall  be  done  in  the  dry  ?" 

III.  The  justice  of  God  is  glorified  in  redemption. 

The  prophet  is  perplexed.  He  strains  his  eye  to 
penetrate  a  mystery.  He  says  to  God,  "  Thou  art  of 
purer  eyes  than  to  behold  evil ;"  but  then,  as  one  un- 
able to  reconcile  the  character  of  God  with  the  deal- 
ings of  his  providence,  he  asks,  "  Wherefore  lookest 
thou  upon  them  that  deal  treacherously,  and  boldest 
thy  tongue  when  the  wicked  devoureth  the  man  that 
is  more  righteous  than  he?"  Now,  although — as  that 
question  implies — clouds  and  darkness  are  round  about 
Jehovah's  throne,  whatever  shadow  present  events 
may  appear  to  cast  upon  his  justice,  and  to  whatever 
trials,  as  in  the  wrongs  of  a  Joseph  or  David,  faith 
may  be  put,  in  believing  that  there  is  a  just  God  upon 
earth,  his  justice  is  as  conspicuous  in  redemption  as 
the  cross  which  illustrated  it.  Sinners,  indeed,  are 
pardoned,  but  then,  their  sins  are  punished ;  the  guilty 
are  acquitted,  but  then,  their  guilt  is  condemned ;  the 
sinner  lives,  but  then,  the  surety  dies ;  the  debtor  is 
discharged,  not,  however,  till  the  debt  is  paid.  Dying, 
*' the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to 
God,"  Jesus  satisfies  for  us ;  and,  as  we  have  seen  a 
discharged  account  pierced  by  a  nail,  and  hung  to 
gather  cobwebs  on  the  dusty  wall,  he  who  paid  our 
dett,  nor  left  us  one  farthing  to  pay,  has  taken  the 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  151 

handwriting  that  was  against  us  and  nailed  it  to  his 
cross. 

And  now,  I  say,  tliat  justice  is  not  only  satisfied, 
bat  more  than  satisfied.  She  is  better  pleased  to  have 
her  debtors  free  in  heaven,  than  locked  up  in  hell. 
It  must  be  so.  Is  it  better  for  the  creditor  to  hold  the 
money  in  his  purse  than  the  man  that  owed  it  in  a 
prison  ?  What  man  of  common  humanity  or  common 
sense  does  not  esteem  himself  happier  to  have  the 
debt  paid,  than  the  miserable  debtor  rotting  in  jail  ? 
Observe,  I  pray  you,  that  in  regard  to  the  lost,  and 
her  claims  upon  them,  justice,  in  a  sense,  is  never 
satisfied.  The  pains  of  hell  do  not,  can  not  exhaust 
the  penalty.  Dreadful  sentence !  Banishment  for 
life,  for  life  eternal,  from  the  blissful  presence  of  God. 
^[ysterious  debt!  A  debt  ever  paying,  yet  never 
paid.  'No  wonder,  in  one  sense,  that  Jesus  died  to 
save.  The  calamity  is  so  incalculably  tremendous, 
that  the  occasion  was  worthy  of  the  interposition  of 
God,  and  the  salvation  is  most  worthy  of  our  grateful 
and  instant  acceptance.  Embrace  it ;  for  no  length 
of  suffering  discharges  this  debt — a  truth  established 
by  the  fiict  that  the  debtor  is  never  discharged. 
Justice  is  never  satisfied ;  and  it  is  plain  therefore,  to 
say  nothing  of  his  mercy,  that  God's  justice  is  more 
illustriously  glorified,  and  more  fully  satisfied  through 
the  satisfaction  rendered  by  our  substitute,  than  it 
could  have  been  by  our  everlasting  sufferings. 

Nor  is  that  all.  It  is  a  mean  and  vulgar  error  to 
suppose  that  the  only  of&ce  of  justice  is  to  punish. 
She  has  higher  and  more  pleasing  functions.  Sternly, 
indeed,  she  stands  by  the  gallows  tree ;  and,  when  she 
has  drawn  the  bolt  and  launched  her  victim  into  cter- 


152  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

nity,  she  leaves  the  scene,  sorrowing  it  may  be,  yet 
satisfied.  It  is  a  melancholy  satisfaction.  From  that 
revolting  spectacle,  turn  to  this  hall  of  assembled 
nobles.  Amid  the  brilliant,  flashing,  gorgeous,  mag- 
nificence of  the  scene,  all  eyes  are  fixed  on  one  man. 
He  comes  red  with  the  blood  of  a  hundred  battles, 
and  crowned  with  the  trophies  of  a  hundred  victories; 
he  comes  at  the  summons  of  a  sovereign  whose  crown 
he  has  saved ;  he  comes  to  receive  the  thanks  of  a 
country,  grateful  for  his  defence  of  its  shores.  Justice 
presides  in  that  assembly.  She  was  satisfied  on  the 
scaffold,  here  she  is  more  than  satisfied  ;  pleasure  and 
triumph  light  up  her  eye,  as,  with  lavish  hand,  she 
dispenses  titles  and  rewards,  and  on  a  head,  so  often 
covered  by  the  God  of  battles,  she  places  a  laurel 
crown. 

In  fact,  it  is  her  noblest  function  to  reward  merit, 
to  crown  the  brows  of  virtue  or  of  valor,  and  send 
suspected  innocence  back  to  the  world  amid  the  plau- 
dits, and  flushed  with  the  triumph  of  an  honorable 
acquittal.  Justice  did  a  stern  but  righteous  act,  when 
she  hung  up  Haman  in  the  face  of  the  sun,  and  before 
the  eyes  of  the  city — a  warning  to  all  tyrants,  and  a 
terror  to  all  sycophants  ;  yet  it  was  a  loftier  and  a  hap- 
pier exercise  of  her  functions  to  call  the  Jew  from  ob- 
scurity, to  marshal  him  along  the  crowded  streets  with 
a  crest-fallen  enemy  walking  at  his  stirrup,  and  royal 
heralds  going  before  to  blow  his  fame,  and  ever  and 
anon  to  cry,  "  Thus  shall  it  be  done  to  the  man  whom 
the  king  delighteth  to  honor."  Even  so,  shall  the  jus- 
tice of  God  be  glorified  when  heads,  now  lying  in  the 
grave,  are  crowned  with  honor.  Believer !  lift  up  thy 
drooping  head.  Thou  shalt  lift  it  up  in  glory  from 
the  dust.     '*He  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our 


v%:>I>  CLORIFIED   IN  REDEMPTION.  153 

s!.:}i3.^"  la  consideration  of  a  Kedeemer's  rigliteous- 
neiTS,  Ocd  shall  crown  thee ;  in  the  righteousness  that 
is  on  thee,  reward  the  work  of  his  Son  ;  and  in  the 
righteousness  that  is  in  thee,  approve  the  work  of  his 
Spirit;  The  august  assembly  of  the  skies  shall  be  a 
spectacle  of  glorified  justice.  In  the  Head  with  its 
members  all  exalted,  the  Captain  and  every  soldier 
crowned,  Jesus  shall  receive  the  full  payment  of  Ilis 
wages,  and  justice  shall  rev/ard  a  Saviour  in  the  saved. 
"  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  bis  ooul,  and  shall  be 
satisfied." 

7* 


Ctje  Hcnjr  of  §oii  illustrnteir  in  ^albatiou 


And  I  will  sanctify  my  great  naxe,  -which  ye  have  profaned. 

EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  23 

Gradual  development  appears  to  be  the  law  of 
nature,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  the  method  of  the 
divine  government.  The  day  does  not  rush  into  light, 
nor  blaze  upon  a  dazzled  world  with  the  flash  of  an 
explosion ;  but  the  sky  brightens  over-head,  and  the 
various  features  of  the  landscape  grow  more  and  more 
distinct  below,  as  the  first  streaks  of  morning  are  de- 
veloping into  a  perfect  day.  Nature  never  moves  ab- 
ruptly— by  starts  and  sudden  impulses; — the  day 
bursts  not  into  light,  neither  do  the  birds  into  song, 
nor  buds  into  leaf,  nor  flowers  into  full-blown  beauty. 
From  her  grave  she  comes  forth  at  the  voice  of 
spring,  but  not  all  of  a  sudden,  like  the  sepulchred 
Lazarus,  at  the  call  of  Jesus.  The  season  advances 
with  a  steady  march — by  gradual  and  graceful  steps 
From  the  first  notes  that  break  the  long  winter  silence, 
till  groves  are  ringing  with  songs ;  from  the  first  bud 
which  looks  out  on  departing  storms,  till  woods  are 
robed  in  their  varied  foliage;  from  the  first  sweet 
flower — welcome  harbinger  of  spring — that  hangs  its 
white  bell  beside  the  lingering  snow,  till  gardens  and 
meadows  bloom,  and  earth  offers  incense  to  her  God 
from  a  thousand  censers ;  from  summer's  first  ripe 
fruit,  till  autumn  sheaves  fall  to  the  reaper's  song,  and 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IX   REDEMPTION.  155 

L  'ds  are  bare,  and  stackyards  are  fall,  and  ever}^  farm 
keeps  "  harvest  home" —  all  is  progressive. 

Man  himself  presents  no  exception  to  this  law.  The 
cradle  is  shorter  than  the  cof&n ;  infancy  outshoots  its 
dress ;  the  stammering  tongue  grows  eloquent ;  the 
tottering  foot  follows  the  chase,  or  stands  balanced 
on  the  rocking  mast ;  and  those  feeble  arms,  which 
now  clasp  a  mother's  neck,  shall  ere  long  battle  witL 
difficulties,  subdue  the  rugged  soil,  or  lay  groaning 
forests  low. 

Our  minds  also  grow  with  our  bodies.  They  open 
like  a  flower-bud  ;  memory,  fancy,  reason,  reflection, 
lie  folded  up  in  an  infant's  soul  like  the  leaves  of 
an  unblown  rose.  Bathed  by  night  in  dews,  and  by 
day  with  light,  these  open  out  to  show  their  colors 
and  shed  their  fragrance  ;  so  those  expand  under  the 
tender  influences  of  a  mother's  culture,  and  the  dawn- 
ing light  of  truth. 

The  law  that  reigns  paramount  in  the  worlds  of  mat- 
ter and  mind — universal  as  that  of  gravitation — ex 
tends  itself  into  the  spiritual  kingdom.  The  God  of 
nature  is  the  God  of  grace,  and  as  he  acts  outside  the 
church,  he  acts  within  it.  In  the  first  place,  the  gos- 
pel system  itself  was  gradually  developed.  The  Bible 
was  once  a  yerj  little  book.  It  grew  by  degrees  to 
its  present  size ;  and,  as  in  a  house,  stone  is  laid  on 
stone,  and  story  built  upon  story,  so  book  was  added 
to  book — history  to  history — prophecy  to  prophecy — 
gospel  to  gospel — and  one  epistle  to  another,  till  the 
hands  of  John  laid  on  the  copestone,  and,  standing  on 
the  pinnacle  of  this  sacred  edifice,  he  pronounced, 
God's  wide  and  withering  curse  on  all  who  should  im- 
pair its  integrity.  The  temple,  in  which  "the  Lord 
of  the  temple"  appeared,  took  forty  years  to  complete, 


156  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

but  the  written  word  was  a  work  of  twc  thousand, 
and  the  revealed  word  of  not  less  than  twice  two 
thousand  years.  It  was  a  long  way  between  Paradise 
and  Patmos ;  and  a  protracted  dawn  from  the  first 
streak  of  morning  that  rose  on  the  Fall,  till  the  sun 
introduced  the  perfect  day.  A  period  of  at  least  foui* 
thousand  years  elapsed  between  the  curse  of  Eden 
and  the  cross  of  Calvary. 

In  the  second  place,  while  the  truth  was  thus  slowl}' 
developed  and  let  in  by  degrees  on  a  benighted  world, 
the  effect  of  that  truth  on  a  benighted  soul  is  also 
gradual.  No  man  starts  up  into  a  finished  Christian. 
The  very  best  come  from  their  graves,  like  Lazarus, 
"clothed  in  grave  clothes" — not  like  Jesus,  who  left 
his  death  dress  behind  him  ;  and  in  our  remaining 
corruptions,  all,  alas !  carry  some  of  these  cerements 
about  with  them,  nor  drop  them  but  at  the  door  of 
heaven.  The  Christian  is  an  example  of  gradual  de- 
velopment. When  our  growth  is  quickest,  how  slow 
it  is !  As,  from  some  fresh  stain  we  wash  our  hands 
in  the  blood  of  Jesus ;  as,  fro»i  the  field  of  daily  con- 
flict we  retire  at  evening  to  seek  the  healing  of  the 
balm  of  Gilead;  as,  with  David,  we  eye  some  emi- 
nence from  which  we  have  fallen,  or,  looking  back  on 
some  former  period,  measure  the  little  progress  we 
have  made — how  often  are  we  constrained  to  ask  in 
disappointment,  "  When  shall  I  be  holy  ?"  How  often 
are  we  constrained  to  cry  in  prayer,  "  How  long,  O 
Lord,  how  long  ?"  At  times  it  looks  as  if  the  dawn 
would  never  brighten  into  day.  We  almost  fear  that 
our  fate  shall  have  its  emblem  in  some  unhappy 
flower,  which — withered  by  frost,  or  the  home  of  a 
worm — never  blows  at  all ;  but  dies  like  an  unborn 
infant,  whose  coffin  is  a  mother's  womb.     This  shall 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN  REDEMPTION.  157 

not  tappen  with  any  child  of  grace.  God  will  per- 
form all  things  for  his  people,  and  perfect  what  con- 
cerneth  them.  Still,  although  He  who  has  begun  a 
good  work  in  them  will  carry  it  on  to  the  day  of  the 
liord  Jesus,  all  the  figures  of  Scripture  indicate  a 
gradual  progress.  The  believer  is  a  babe  who  grows 
*'  to  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man  in  Christ,"  and  "  the 
path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth 
more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

These  laws  of  development  have  their  limit  in 
creation.  They  affect  not  God.  He  has  made  no 
progress.  There  was  room  for  none.  His  maturity, 
eternally  as  well  as  divinely  perfect,  knows  neither 
growth  nor  age.  His  wisdom,  knowledge,  goodness, 
love,  justice,  truth,  and  mercy,  were  always — millions 
of  ages  ago — were  what  they  are  now.  Knowing  no 
growth,  he  can  suffer  no  decay.  It  is  the  sun  which 
rises  that  sets ;  but  it  is  the  peculiar  attribute  of  Di- 
vinity to  be  "the  same  yesterday,  to  day,  and  for 
ever."  His  being  is  as  an  infinite  ocean,  that  holds 
within  its  bosom  all  that  lives  and  is,  that  has  neither 
shore  nor  bottom,  beginning  nor  end,  ebb  nor  flow, 
calm  nor  tempest ;  which  no  changes  alter,  nor  tribu 
taries  supply ;  and  which,  affected  neither  by  tide  noi 
time,  has  been,  is,  and  ever  shall  be  full.  How  ador- 
able is  God !  He  is  great,  and  greatly  to  be  feared. 
The  attributes  of  God,  however,  have  been  gradually 
revealed  to  the  knowledge  of  his  intelligent  creatures, 
and  their  light  has  risen  on  the  universe  like  day- 
break upon  our  planet.  For  example,  when  he 
created  angels,  suns,  and  worlds,  God,  in  the  first 
instance,  displayed  his  being,  wisdom,  power,  holi- 
ness, and  goodness.  Then  came  the  first  Fall.  Its 
scene  was  laid  in  heaven,  where  a  part  of  the  angelic 


158  THE    GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

host  committed  sin ;  and  this  event  called  forth  the 
exhibition  of  another  attribute,  or — to  speak  with 
more  propriety — a  new  display  of  justice.  Punitive 
justice  was  now  revealed.  She  unsheathed  her  glit- 
tering sword,  and  it  foil  in  vengeance  on  the  workers 
of  iniquity,  and  sheared  their  glory  from  angel'a 
heads. 

Time  rolled  on ;  how  long  \ve  know  not.  At 
length  our  world  was  created — or  rather  brought  into 
its  present  form — and  became  the  scene  of  our  pa- 
rents' probation.  Sin  came ;  death  trod  on  the  heels 
of  sin  ;  for,  as  the  Apostle  tells,  "Sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin,  and  so  death  passed  upon  all 
men,  for  that  all  have  sinned."  Now  the  culprits 
stand  trembling  before  their  Maker,  nor  is  there  an 
angel  who  looks  on,  but  expects  to  see  the  sword  once 
more  unsheathed,  and  hear  the  thunders,  that  shook 
thrones  and  principalities  in  heaven,  roll,  and  peal, 
and  crash  among  the  hills  of  earth.  At  this  awful 
moment — at  that  eventful  crisis — how  unexpected  the 
voice  which  came  from  the  most  excellent  majest}^ — 
"  Deliver  from  going  dow^n  to  the  pit ;  I  have  found  a 
ransom."  To  the  surprise  of  angels,  from  out  the 
light  that  vails  the  throne,  a  beautiful  form  steps 
forth,  and  Mercy,  arresting  the  uplifted  arm,  turns  its 
weapon  fjom  man  on  her  own  bared,  spotless,  loving 
bosom.  In  the  Son  of  God  about  to  become  incar- 
nate, she  says — "Lo!  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God.' 
Ready  both  to  satisfy  and  suffer  for  them,  Jesus  in- 
terposes for  his  elect  as  he  did  for  his  disciples,  when, 
stepping  in  between  them  and  the  armed  band,  he 
said — "I  am  he;  let  these  go  their  way."  This 
brings  Ms  now  to  remark-- 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   EEDEMPTION.  159 

I.  The  mercy  of  God  is  glorified  in  redemption. 

To  do  justice  to  God,  to  the  Saviour,  ana  to  our 
subject,  Ave  must  be  careful  not  to  confound  pity  with 
mercy.  This  is  no  example  of  a  distinction  without  a 
difference.  Some  time  ago,  upon  a  cold  winter  da}'', 
we  passed  the  door  of  a  humble  abode.  A  venerable 
old  woman  stood  in  the  open  door- way,  with  a  very 
wretched,  ragged  child  before  her.  With  one  hand 
she  offered  a  piece  of  bread — sharing  her  food  with  a 
poverty  sorer  than  her  own — while  the  other  held  up 
a  bowl  of  milk  to  the  lips  of  the  sad,  shivering,  ema- 
ciated creature;  and  had  you  seen  the  benevolence 
that  beamed  in  her  aged  face  as  she  gazed  on  the 
orphan  partaking  of  her  bounty,  you  would  have 
gone  and  done  likewise — won  over  to  humanit}^  by 
such  a  lovely  and  living  picture  of  the  truth  that 
charity  is  twice  blessed — blest  in  those  that  give,  and 
blest  in  those  that  get.  Now,  however  beautiful  that 
scene  was  to  the  eye  of  humanity,  it  was  not  a  display 
of  mercy.  Not  mercy  but  pity  moved  that  kind  hand 
and  gentle  breast;  and  there  the  aged  matron  stood, 
an  example  of  what  is  not  uncommon  among  the 
poor — lofty  charity  in  lowly  life.  Take  another  ex- 
ample : — A  man  builds  an  asylum  for  the  destitute — 
a  harbor  of  refuge  for  the  wrecks  of  fortune.  This  may 
be  an  honorable  monument  to  his  memory — it  ma}^ 
be,  perhaps,  but  a  monument  of  his  vanity;  but, 
whether  it  be  erected  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  or 
to  gratify  the  craving  for  posthumous  fame,  it  is  not 
a  temple  of  mercy.  The  wandering  mendicant,  into 
whose  hand  you  drop  your  money,  as  he  begs  his 
way  on  to  a  grave,  where,  with  his  head  sheltered 
beneath  the  sod,  he  shall  feel  neither  cold  nor  hunger, 
appeals  to  your  compassion,  not  to  your  mercy.     lie 


160  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Las  done  yoa  no  wrong — lie  has  not  stolen  j'our 
goods,  nor  traduced  your  character,  nor  inflicted  in- 
jury on  your  person,  nor  in  any  way  whatever  dis- 
turbed your  peace  ;  and  so  it  is  but  pity  that  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  charity  which  shares  her  bread  with 
the  hungry,  and  spares  a  corner  of  an  ample  cloak  to 
cover  the  nakedness  of  the  poor. 

Mercy  is  a  higher  attribute — an  act  of  mercy  is  a 
far  nobler  achievement.  She  sits  enthroned  among 
the  divine  Graces.  On  her  heavenly  wings  man  rises 
to  his  loftiest  elevation,  and  makes  his  nearest  ap- 
proach and  similitude  to  God.  This  distinction  be- 
tween compassion  and  mercy  is  clearly  enunciated  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures.  We  are  told  that  "like  as  a 
father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them 
that  fear  him ;"  but  the  Lord  is  merciful  to  them  that 
fear  him  not.  Not  only  did  he  so  love  the  world  as 
to  give  up  his  Son  to  die  for  it,  but  he  commended  his 
love  to  us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ 
died  for  us.  We  pity  simple  suffering  ;  but  let  pity 
and  love  be  extended  to  guilty  suffering,  and  3^ou  have 
now  the  very  element  of  mercy.  Mercy  is  the  for- 
giveness of  an  injury  ;  mercy  is  the  pardon  of  a  sinner. 
Smiling  when  justice  frowns,  and  extending  her 
favors  out  and  beyond  those  who  are  merely  without 
merit,  she  bestows  them  on  those  who  are  full  of  de- 
merit. 

Leaving  the  priest  and  Levite  to  walk  on  in  their 
cold  and  heartless  indifference,  look  at  this  good  Sa- 
maritan, as,  bending  over  a  bleeding  form,  he  binds 
the  wounds  of  a  man  whom  robbers  have  assaulted, 
and  whom  these  hypocrites  have  left  to  die.  There, 
pity  kneels  beside  suffering  humanity,  bears  a  bro- 
ther's burden,  and  is  afflicted  in  all  his  afflictions.  Now 


GOD   GLOr^IP'IED   IN    REDEMPTION.  161 

from  tbat  beautiful  spectacle  turn  to  Calvary  and  the 
cross  on  which  Jesns  dies.  Here, — herself  wounded, 
and  bleeding, — Mercy  hangs  over  a  wicked  world,  and 
with  her  tears  sheds  blessings  on  the  head  of  mur- 
derers— "  Father,  forgive  them  ;  they  know  not  what 
tliey  do."  In  fine,  the  objects  of  pity  are  sufferers 
who  have  been  unfortunate;  the  objects  of  mercy  are 
sufferers  who  have  been  guilt}^  And  now  under- 
standing mercy  to  be  the  forgiveness  of  a  wrong,  the 
pardon  of  a  sinner,  the  kindness  of  the  injured  to  the 
injurer,  where,  as  in  redemption — where,  indeed,  but 
in  redemption — is  this  crowning  attribute  of  the  God- 
head to  be  seen  ?  save  for  redemption,  this  fairest 
jewel  in  the  crown  of  heaven  had  been  concealed — 
unknown  as  a  pearl  still  shelled  in  depths  of  ocean, 
or  any  diamond  that  still  lies  bedded  in  the  dark 
mines  of  earth. 

Guilty  man  embraced  within  her  arms,  how  visible 
is  mercy  now  !  Where  can  we  turn  our  eyes  but  she 
meets  them?  Pointing  to  the  pit  of  perdition,  do  you 
say,  look  there!  Well,  we  look  there.  We  see  mercy 
there:  not  mercy  enjoyed,  but  mercy  rejected.  Turn- 
ing with  horror  from  the  sight,  do  we  look  up  ?  In 
every  saint,  robed  in  righteousness  and  reigning  in 
glory,  we  behold  a  monument  of  mercy,  and  exclaim 
with  David,  "  Thy  mercy,  0  Lord,  is  in  the  heavens.'' 
And  as  to  this  guilty  world,  are  not  the  arms  of  mercy 
around  it  ?  They  preserve  it  and  sustain  it.  Ever}^ 
sinner  is  a  monument  of  sparing,  and  every  believer 
is  a  monument  of  saving  mercy.  God's  people  in  their 
creeds,  catechisms,  and  confessions  may  differ  in  their 
mode  of  expressing  some  points  of  faith,  but  in  this 
confession  all  concur — these  words  each  and  all  adopt 
—"Great  is  thy  mercy  toward  me,  thou  hast  delivered 


162  THE   GOSPEL   IX    EZKKIEL. 

my  soul  from  the  lowest  bell."  There  is  mercy  above 
the  ground,  aj-e,  and  beneath  it.  There  is  mercy  in 
the  very  grave.  You  may  see  her  form,  and  hear  her 
sweetly  singing  on  a  believer's  tomb.  To  that  quiet 
harbor  God  has  brought  many  a  dear  one  before  the 
storm  burst.  There,  earth,  like  a  gentle  mother,  has 
wrapped  her  mantle  round  a  tender  child  ;  and,  when 
the  tempest  was  beating  upon  their  own  heads,  have 
not  many  been  thankful  that  some,  whom  they  loved, 
were  now  beyond  its  reach — sleeping  quietly  in  the 
peaceful  gi-ave.  Yes!  and  to  believers  themselves 
there  is  the  kindest  mercy  in  the  grave.  How  can 
they  doubt  it?  Were  I  the  tenant  of  an  old,  crumb- 
lino;  cottao^e,  throudi  whose  chinks  and  rents  the  cold 
rain  was  dripping,  and  frosty  winds  blew,  it  were,  I 
think,  a  kindness  to  pull  down  this  crazy  building 
and  build  me  a  palace  in  its  room.  Quarrel  not  with 
death's  rude  hand.  It  pulls  to  pieces  this  frail  taber 
nacle,  that,  on  the  day  when  mortal  shall  assume  im 
mortality,  mercy  may  raise  for  me  from  its  wreck,  "  a 
building  of  God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal 
in  the  heavens." 

In  short,  on  every  thing  I  read  the  words,  "  The 
earth,  0  Lord,  is  full  of  thy  mercy."  Mercies  arrive 
on  the  wings  of  ever}^  hour ;  mercies  suppl}^  our  table ; 
mercies  flow  in  life's  brimming  cup.  They  fall  in 
every  shower,  and  shine  in  every  sunbeam.  The}^  lie 
as  thick  around  man's  tent,  as  desert  manna  in  the 
days  of  old.  Here,  mercy  runs  to  meet  the  returning 
prodigal,  and  opens  her  arms  to  fold  him  to  her  bosom. 
Here,  she  pleads  with  sinners,  and  pronounces  pardon 
over  the  chief  of  them.  Here,  she  weeps  with  sufferers, 
and  dries  the  tear  upon  sorrow's  cheek.  And  here, 
eyeing  the  storm,   she  launches  her  life-boat  through 


GOD   GLORIFIED   IN   REDEMPTION.  163 

foaming  breakers,  and  pulls  for  the  wreck  where  souls 
are  perishing.  It  is  her  blessed  hand  which  rings  the 
Sabbath  bell,  and  her  voice  which,  on  sava^re  shores 
or  from  Christian  pulpits,  proclaims  a  Saviour  for  the 
lost.  None  she  despises  ;  she  despairs  of  none;  and, 
not  to  be  scared  away  by  foulest  sin,  she  stands  by  itj^ 
guilty  bed,  and,  bending  down  to  death's  dull  ear — 
when  the  twelfth  hour  is  just  about  to  strike — slie 
looks  into  the  glassy  eye  and  cries.  Believe,  O  believe, 
only  believe,  "  whosoever  believeth  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 

II.  In  redemption,  God  is  glorified  in  the  complete 
discomfiture  of  all  his  and  our  enemies. 

He  is  glorified  hy  Satanh  defeat. 

God  made  man  in  his  own  image,  and  put  him  on 
probation.  But  was  he,  could  he,  be  indifferent  to  the 
issue?  Assuredly  not ;  for,  although  he  does  not  will 
the  death  of  guilt,  he  must,  in  a  sense,  have  willed 
the  triumph  of  innocence.  What  fatner  ever  saw  his 
son  leave  for  the  field  of  battle,  and  did  not  follow 
him  with  wishes  for  his  success?  When  the  Spartan 
widow  laced  on  the  armor  of  her  boy,  and,  kissing 
his  cheek,  sent  him  away  to  the  fight,  in  handing  him 
his  father's  shield,  she  bade  him  return  wath  it  or  on 
it — dead,  or  a  conqueror — in  honorable  life  or  not  less 
honorable  death.  And  I  cannot  but  believe  that  the 
life  and  honor  of  our  first  parents  were  as  dear  to  God 
— dearer,  dearer  far,  than  ever  son's  to  mother ;  for, 
such  was  his  love,  that,  even  in  our  guilt  he  com- 
mended his  love  to  us  b}^  givii^g  ^ip  his  Son  to  die 
for  us. 

Well ;  the  hour  of  conflict  came,  and  with  it  God's 
enemy  and  man's — the  Adversary,  the  Devil,  the  Evil 


164  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

One,  Satan,  Prince  of  Darkness,  the  Power  and  Po- 
tentate of  Hell.  A  poor  drowning  man  will  seize  the 
swimmer's  limb,  clasp  his  arms,  nor  relax  the  death- 
grasp,  till,  after  a  brief  struggle,  they  go  down  to- 
gether. Thus  it  has  often  happened,  most  pitifully 
and  miserably,  that  the  perishing  has,  in  his  unwise 
attempts  to  save  himself,  been  the  death  of  a  generous 
friend.  But  there  is  in  sin  a  deep  and  damnable  ma- 
lignit}^,  which,  without  any  hope  of  personal  advan- 
tage, prompts  the  sinner  to  seize  all  within  his  grasp. 
That  he  may  drag  others  down  into  the  same  perdi- 
tion with  himself,  he  lays  siege  to  honesty  to  conquer 
it,  to  virtue  to  corrupt  it ;  and  hence  the  danger  of 
ungodly  associates  ;^"  A  companion  of  fools  shall  be 
destro^'cd."  It  was  this  evil  principle  which  we  see 
every  day  at  work,  that  carried  havoc  into  Eden ;  yet 
not  this  alone.  Besides  the  inherent  hatred  that  sin 
bears  to  holiness,  Satan  was  smarting  under  his  wounds, 
and,  with  a  fire  as  unquenchable  as  that  of  his  own 
hell,  he  burned  to  be  avenged.  Was  there  not  a  va- 
cant throne  in  heaven  ?  Had  it  not  once  been  his? 
and  still  been  his,  but  that  God  had  hurled  him  into 
perdition?  God  was  his  enemy,  and  he  was  God's; 
he  would  be  revenged ;  he  would  defeat  his  purposes; 
cross,  thwart,  disappoint  him ;  and  wreak  his  ven- 
geance on  God  in  the  only  way  within  a  creature's 
reach — he  would  wound  a  father's  heart  through  the 
sides  of  his  children. 

Placed  on  probation,  man  looked,  lusted,  ate,  sinned, 
and  fell.  Satan  triumphed.  With  the  ruins  of  Eden 
around  him,  he  stood  above  the  grave  of  human  hopes, 
and,  as  it  seemed  also,  of  heaven's  intentions.  He 
contemplated  with  proud  satisfaction  the  triumph  of 
his  malignant  subtilty.     As  he  wrung  the  first  teara 


GOD   GLORIFIED  IN  REDEMPTION.  165 

from  human  eyes,  I  can  fancy  how  he  taunted  his 
weeping  victims  with  the  question — "  Where  is  now 
thy  God?"  Pharaoh,  ere  God  had  done  with  him, 
and  he  with  God,  got  his  question  answered — "  Who 
is  the  Lord,  that  I  should  obey  his  voice?"  And  the 
Devil  got  his  answered,  too.  When  the  fullness  of  time 
has  come,  in  a  son  of  that  woman  Satan  meets  her 
God,  to  find  in  him  not  a  match  only,  but  a  Master. 

When  his  vessel  has  broken  in  the  storm,  and  Ajax 
stands  unsheltered  on  a  rock  in  mid-ocean,  he  is  rep- 
resented as  in  anger  with  the  gods,  shaking  his 
clenched  hand  at  heaven.  In  Eden,  for  a  time  at 
least,  Satan  stands  in  a  different  and  prouder  position; 
he  has  conquered  ;  he  has  won  the  victory ;  who  shall 
pluck  it  from  his  grasp  ?  lie  tramples  on  earth,  and 
laughs  at  heaven.  Although  on  a  grander  scale,  and 
involving  much  grander  issues,  the  scene  reminds  us 
of  the  day  when — with  the  Philistines  clustered  on 
this  mountain,  and  Israel  on  that — there  stalked  out  into 
the  narrow  valley,  Goliath,  the  pride  of  Gath,  a  mov- 
ing tower,  terrible  to  look  on,  in  height  six  cubits  and 
a  span.  High  above  his  dancing  plume,  the  giant 
shakes  a  spear,  shafted  like  a  weaver's  beam,  and 
thunders  up  this  challenge  to  the  trembling  host — 
"  Am  not  I  a  Philistine?  I  defy  the  armies  of  Israel 
this  day.  Give  me  a  man  that  we  may  fight  to 
gether." 

So  Satan  stood,  in  bold  defiance  and  unchallenged 
possession  of  the  field ;  and  now  God  might  have  left 
man  to  reap  the  full  harvest  of  his  sin  and  folly — to 
drink  the  cup  which  his  own  hands  had  filled.  In  the 
words  of  Scripture,  He  had  entered  into  "a  covenant 
with  death  ;"  he  had  been  at  an  "  agreement  with  hell ;" 
•  -let  him   reap  as  he  has  sowed.     But  what  then? 


166  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

Wli}^,  Satan  then  Avould  at  least  have  seemed  to  havo 
the  advantage — would  have  seemed  to  be  a  match  for 
God  ;  and  have  boasted  ability  and  skill  enough,  by 
his  own  wiles,  to  thwart  the  purposes  of  eternal  wisdom. 
In  that  event,  all  men  should  have  perished ;  but  in 
that  event,  would  Jehovah's  power  have  stood  out  as 
unchallengeable,  or  his  glory  as  clear,  as  at  this  day? 
No.  God  had  another  end  in  view  in  permitting  this 
temporary  triumph.     Why  does  he  permit  it? 

Observe  yon  skillfal  wrestler!  He  embraces  his 
antagonist,  and,  with  athletic  power,  lifting  him  from 
the  ground,  he  holds  him  aloft;  ah  I  but  he  raises,  to 
dash  him  back  on  the  earth  with  a  m^ore  crushing  fall. 
So  fared  it  with  the  Evil  One.  God  permits  him  to 
scale  the  walls,  to  carry  the  citadel  by  assault,  and  to 
plant  for  a  time  his  defiant  standard  on  the  battlements 
of  this  world.  He  does  this,  that  from  his  proud  em- 
inence he  may  hurl  him  into  a  deeper  hell ;  and,  angels 
rejoicing  in  man's  salvation,  and  devils  discomfited 
in  their  leader's  defeat — ^both  friends  and  foes — might 
be  constrained  to  say,  "  Hast  thou  an  arm  like  God, 
or  canst  thou  thunder  with  a  voice  like  his  ?"  From 
this,  believer  I  when  providences  are  of  darkest,  anc' 
thou  canst  not  trace  the  footsteps  of  thy  God,  learn 
to  place  unquestioning  confidence  in  his  ways  and 
wisdom. 

While  God  is  glorified  hy  Satan's  defeat,  he  is  glorified 
also  hy  the  very  time  and  manner  of  it. 

You  ask,  why  did  four  thousand  years  elapse  be- 
tween the  promise  and  the  promised  One?  1  may 
reply,  by  asking  you,  why  does  this  accompl'shed 
racer,  who  stands  abreast  of  his  competitor,  not  start 
along  with  him  ?  Why,  lingering  by  the  starting  post, 
does  he  give  his  opponent  a  long  advantage  ?  and  then, 


nOD   GLORIFIED    IN    REDEMPTION.  167 

springing  forward  on  the  feet  of  the  wind,  approach 
him,  pass  him,  leave  him  Lagging  far  behind?  AVhy, 
but  to  prove  more  plainly  his  own  superiority,  and 
embitter  the  bitterness  of  an  antagonist's  defeat.  Or, 
we  may  ask  you,  wh}^,  when  the  news  of  his  friend's 
illness  was  carried  to  Galilee,  did  our  Lord  tarry  there, 
nor,  hurrying  through  Samaria,  hasten  to  the  relief  of 
Lazarus?  He  does  not  even  arrive  just  when  the 
breath  has  left,  and  ere  the  form  of  him  he  loved  is 
yet  stiff  and  cold  in  death.  He  leaves  Lazarus  to  die. 
He  leaves  Lazarus  to  be  buried.  He  leaves  Lazarus 
to  lie  four  days  rotting  in  the  grave.  Why  this  strange 
delay?  why,  but  that  at  the  door  of  the  dead  man's 
tomb  he  might  stand  forth,  not  only  the  conqueror  of 
death,  but  Lord  also  of  the  grave. 

On  the  alarm  of  war,  the  news  fly  through  the  land, 
beacon  fires  are  blazing  on  every  hill  and  headland, 
and  before  one  hostile  foot  has  touched  the  soil,  hur- 
rying from  shepherd's  hut  and  peasant's  cottage,  lone- 
ly glens  and  crowded  cities,  freemen  line  the  beach  to 
fight  a  country's  enemies  on  a  country's  shores.  In  the 
great  battle  of  redemption  there  is  no  such  haste. 
Kot  for  four  days,  nor  even  four  years,  but  for  the 
long  period  of  four  thousand  years,  Satan  is  left  in 
all  but  undisputed  possession  of  his  conquest.  God 
leaves  him  ample  time  to  entrench  himself;  to  found, 
to  strengthen,  to  establish,  to  extend  his  kingdom. 
And  why  ?  but  that  a  Redeemer's  power  might  be  the 
more  apparent  in  its  ignominious  and  total  overthrow. 
And  in  this,  Christ  glorified  himself;  just  as  we  should 
do,  were  we  to  leave  the  sapling  in  possession  of  the 
soil  until  it  grew  into  a  tree,  and  then,  bending  on  it 
more  than  a  giant's  strength,  should  lay  its  head,  and 
pride,  and  glory,  in  the  dust.     As  a  Redeemer,  Jesus 


168  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Christ  was  to  sliow  liimself  to  be  the  "Power"  as  well 
as  the  "  Wisdom"  of  God.  This  is  the  manner  of  re- 
demption. And  may  I  not  take  occasion  from  it  to 
tell  the  oldest,  hardest,  most  hoary  sinner,  to  hope, 
and  turn  to  God  ?  He  has  left  you  long;  He  has  left 
you  till  now ;  He  has  left  ^'ou  amid  the  infirmities  of 
yeais  to  grow  stronger  in  sin.  Despair  not !  nor  think- 
that  he  has  shut  the  door  of  mercy  !  What  if  he  has 
left  you  so  long,  just  to  show  how  he  can  save  at  the 
very  uttermost, — call  at  the  eleventh  hour, —  and  by 
the  breath  of  his  Spirit  cause  "  dry  bones"  to  live. 

Ood  is  not  only  glorified  in  Satan's  defeat,  and  also  in 
the  time  and  manner  of  it,  hut  pre-eminently  glorified  in 
the  instrument  of  it. 

He  was  no  veteran,  the  giant's  match  in  years,  ex- 
perience, stature,  or  strength,  who  defeated  Goliath. 
When  the  battle  between  the  two  nations  was  fought 
by  their  respective  champions,  fire  flew  not  from  op- 
posing swords,  nor  were  spears  shivered  on  opposing 
shields ;  the  valley  shook  not  beneath  the  tread  and 
collision  of  two  giants;  nor  did  victory  hang  in  the 
balance,  and  anxious  partisans  endure  the  agony  of 
suspeaS^  on  confronting  mountains,  while  the  air  re- 
sounded with  the  clash  of  arms,  and  blood  gushed 
from  gaping  wounds.  Never  to  appearance  were  there 
two  men  more  unequaly  matched.  When  the  lines 
of  Israel  opened,  and  a  youth,  a  beardless  lad,  clad  in 
a  shepherd's  dress,  with  no  weapon  but  a  sling,  "and 
no  confidence  but  God  in  heaven,  stepped  foith  to 
measure  his  strength  with  the  giant,  loud  laughed  the 
Philistine,  and  wit  ran  merrily  through  his  countr}^- 
men's  ranks.     Ere  one  brief  hour  had  run  its  course, 


GOD    GLORIFIED    IN   REDEMPTION.  169 

they  wept  that  laughed,  and  they  laughed  that  wept. 
He  who  guides  the  sun  in  his  path  in  heaven,  guided 
the  stone  as,  winged  with  death,  and  winged  by  prayer, 
it  shot  from  the  whirling  sling.  It  sung  from  the 
shepherd's  hand  ;  sank  into  the  giant's  broAV ;  he  I'eels, 
he  staggers — and  his  armor  making  a  mighty  clash — 
he  measures  his  long  length  upon  the  ground.  Bound- 
ing like  a  young  lion,  David  leaps  upon  his  prey,  and, 
leaving  a  headless  carcass  to  feed  the  vultures,  he  re- 
turns to  the  ranks  of  shouting  countrymen — in  this 
hand,  the  giant's  sword,  in  that  other,  his  gory  head. 
Old  men  bless  the  lad,  and  young  men  envy  him,  and 
happy  mothers  and  laughing  maidens  sing  his  fame ; 
and  ere  that  day's  sun  has  set,  there  is  music,  and 
dancing,  and  feasting  in  the  homes  of  Israel. 

That  bright  day  was  but  the  type  of  a  brighter  still, 
on  which  God  glorified  himself,  moi'tified  and  scattered 
his  enemies,  and  restored  a  fallen  house  to  more  than 
its  ancient  honors.  Man  foils;  the  world  is  lost; 
Satan  triumphs.  How  does  God  pluck  the  victory 
from  his  hands?  He  might  have  discharged  thunder- 
bolts on  his  jead ;  he  might  have  overwhelmed  this 
enemy  by  sending  down  upon  him  legions  of  em- 
battled angels.  It  is  not  so.  He  meets  him,  matches 
him,  masters  him  by  a  solitary  Man.  Beneath  the 
heel  of  a  Man  of  sorrows  he  crushes  the  serpent's  head. 
A  Son  of  man  is  the  Saviour  of  man  ;  a  brother  rises 
up  in  our  house  to  redeem  his  brethren  ;  a  Conqueror 
appears  in  the  conquered  famiU^  Out  of  the  mouth 
of  a  Suckling — by  One  nursed  on  a  woman's  bosom, 
and  carried  in  a  woman's  arms — he  ordaineth  strength. 
Never  was  the  tide  of  battle  so  strangely,  so  complete- 
ly,  so  triumphantly  turned.     The  Babe  of  a  cradle 

9 


170  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

wears  the  crown  of  the  universe ;  and  by  One  who 
died,  God  destroys  "death,  and  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death,  that  is,  the  devil." 

"  Give  thanks  then  nnto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good  ; 
for  his  mercy  endureth  for  ever.  Oh  give  thanks  un- 
to the  God  of  Gods  ;  for  his  mercy  endureth  for  ever. 
Oh  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord  of  Lords ;  for  his  mercy 
endureth  for  ever ;  who  remembered  us  in  our  low 
estate,  and  hath  redeemed  us  from  our  enemies.  Oh 
give  thanks  unto  the  God  of  heaven,  for  his  mercy 
endureth  for  ever." 


€\)t  benefits  Mm^  from  lii:kin|)tiou- 

I  will  take  you  from  among  the  heathen,  and  gather  you  out  of  all 
coimtries,  and  bring  you  into  your  own  land. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  24. 

Men's  chief  end  is  to  glorify  God  ;  and  God's  chief 
end  is  to  glorify  himself.  While  that  is  an  end  worthy 
of  the  great  Creator,  it  goes  greatly  to  enlarge  our  in- 
terest in  his  works,  and  enhance  their  value  in  our 
eyes.  That  end  gives  loftiness  to  the  humblest  of 
them.  When  I  know  that  for  his  own  glory  he  paints 
each  flower,  gives  the  fish  its  silver  scales,  and  sends 
forth  the  beetle  armed  in  mail  of  gold,  his  creatures 
rise  in  my  esteem.  It  may  look  a  sickly  fancy,  but 
one  almost  feels  reluctant  to  destroy  the  humblest 
flower  or  insect,  lest  we  should  silence  one  of  the  ten 
thousand  voices  which  form  the  choir  of  nature,  and 
swell  the  praises  of  nature's  God.  Is  there  a  child 
whose  heart  does  not  warm  towards  him  who  praises 
an  earthly  father,  or  speaks  honorably  of  the  good 
man's  memory  ?  Kow,  the  very  same  feeling  inclines 
a  child  of  God  to  love  all  the  works  that  do  his  Fa- 
ther honor;  and  of  all  men  he  cannot  fail  to  enjoy  the 
most  exquisite  pleasure  in  the  beauties  of  nature,  who 
carries  to  her  fields  a  pious  spirit,  and  sees  his  Father 
mirrored  in  them  all ;  hears  his  praise  sung  in  the 
voices  of  groves,  or  pealed  in  the  roar  of  thunder. 
Such  was  the  spirit  of  one — a  venerable  patriarch— 
who  shed  on  a  very  humble  station  the  luster  of  bril 


172  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

liant  graces.  When  the  storm  sent  others  in  haste  tc 
their  homes,  he  was  wont  to  leave  his  own,  and  to 
stand  with  upturned  face,  raised  eye,  and  with  his 
gray  head  uncovered,  to  watch  the  flash,  and  listen  to 
tlie  music  of  the  roaring  thunder.  How  line  his  reply 
to  those  who  expressed  their  wonder  at  his  aspect  and 
attitude — ''  It's  my  Father's  voice,  and  I  like  well  to 
hear  it."  What  a  sublime  example  of  the  perfect  love 
that  casteth  out  fear!  ''  Happy  is  that  people  that  is 
in  such  a  case,  yea  happy  is  that  people  whose  God  is 
the  Lord." 

Now,  as  it  ennobles  nature — so  that  the  sun  shines 
more  bright,  and  the  flowers  look  more  beautiful,  and 
there  is  a  grander  majesty  in  the  rolling  sea — when  we 
know  that  God  does  all  things  for  his  own  glory,  it 
greatly  enhances  the  preciousness  of  salvation  to  know, 
that  in  the  kingdom  of  grace  also  he  has  the  same  end 
in  view.  If  God  saves — not  because  we  deserve  mer- 
cy— but  that  his  own  great  mercy  may  be  illustrated 
in  saving,  ah  !  then  there  is  hope  for  me — Yes,  al- 
though thou  wert  an  adulterer,  a  thief,  a  murderer, 
the  vile  wretch  who  spit  in  Jesus'  face,  the  ruffian 
who  forced  the  thorny  crown  deep  into  his  bleeding 
brow,  although  thou  wert  that  very  soldier  who 
buried  the  lance  in  Jesus'  side,  and  just  returning 
from  Calvary,  with  the  blood  of  Christ's  heart  red 
on  the  spear  head,  I  would  stop  thee  in  thy  way 
to  say,  there  is  hope  for  thee.  Oh,  this  has  inspired 
with  hope  souls  which  had  otherwise  despaired,  and 
gilded  the  edges  of  guilt's  darkest  cloud.  In  circum- 
stances where  we  would  have  been  dumb — opening 
not  the  mouth — when  called  to  the  dying  bed  of 
vilest,  lowest  sin,  it  has  unsealed  our  lips,  and  lent 
wings  to  prayer.     Of  the  preacher,  whose  walk  lies 


THE   BENEFITS   FLOWING  FROM  REDEMPTION.    173 

among  the  most  wretched,  hopeless,  and  abandoned, 
this  truth  says,  since  God  saves  for  his  own  glory, 
haste,  "  loose  him,  and  let  him  go" — go  to  offer  Christ 
(as  I  do  to-day)  to  the  chief  of  sinners;  like  a 
sunbeam  passing  undefiled  through  the  foulest  at- 
mosphere, go  in  thy  heavenly  purity  where  the  ba- 
sest of  thy  race  is  perishing,  nor  shrink  from  this 
loathsome  guilt,  but  with  Jesus'  pity  and  Jesus'  tears, 
lift  up  her  dying  head,  and  in  the  mercy  of  God  in 
Christ,  let  her  drink  this  wine  of  love  out  of  its  cup 
of  gold.  If  the  worse  a  patient  is,  if  the  fiercer  his 
fever  burns,  if  the  deeper  his  wound  has  penetrated, 
so  much  the  greater  is  the  glory  of  the  physician 
who  cures  him ;  then  the  worse  a  sinner  is,  the  great- 
er Christ's  glory  when  he  saves  him.  But  for  this, 
that  God  in  every  case  saves  men,  not  out  of  regard 
to  their  merit,  but  his  own  glory,  what  could  sus- 
tain the  faith  of  him  who,  in  preaching  the  gospel 
to  unconverted  men,  has  to  run  his  horses  on  a  rock, 
and  ploughs  there  with  oxen ;  to  sow  the  seed  of  God's 
blessed  word  under  the  most  unfavorable  circumstan- 
ces; to  write  sermons  for  dead  men,  and  preach  them 
to  dry  bones.  Nothing  but  faith  in  this  could  carry 
us  to  the  top  of  Carme],  not  seven,  but  seventy  times 
seven,  to  look  out  over  the  sea  of  God's  mercy  for  the 
cloud  of  blessing,  and  wait  till  it  rise,  and  spread  over 
the  heavens,  and  discharge  its  treasures  on  a  barren 
land.     "  Seeing  we  have  this  ministry  we  faint  not." 

Having  already  attempted  to  show  how  God  glori- 
fies himself  in  redemption,  we  shall  now  address  our- 
selves to  the  subject-matter  of  the  text,  where  we  are 
taught  that  redemption  brings  good  to  man  as  well  as 
glory  to  God.     And  it  appears  from  the  text — 


174  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

I  In  carrying  out  the  work  of  redemption,  God 
will  call  his  people  out  of  the  world.  "  I  will  take  you 
from  among  the  heathen." 

By  nature  his  people  are  no  better  than  other  peo- 
ple. They  were  no  better  till  grace  made  them  so. 
The  Apostle  settles  the  point  by  the  question,  "  Who 
maketh  thee  to  differ  from  another?"  and  the  confess- 
ion, "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am.^'  And 
our  Lord  teaches  the  same  doctrine  in  these  brief  but 
expressive  parables — "Two  women  are  grinding  at 
the  mill ;  one  is  taken,  and  another  left."  *'  Two  men 
are  in  one  field;  the  one  is  taken,  and  the  other  left." 
"  Two  men  are  in  one  bed  ;  one  is  taken,  and  another 
left."  Christ  states  the  truth,  and  how  often  does  Prov- 
idence supply  the  commentary  ?  Here  are  two  chil- 
dren ;  they  were  born  of  one  mother ;  nestled  in  one 
bosom  ;  rocked  in  one  cradle  ;  baptized  in  one  font ; 
they  were  reared  under  the  same  roof;  grew  up  under 
the  same  training ;  sat  under  the  same  ministry ;  and 
in  death  not  divided,  they  are  sleeping  together  in  the 
same  grave.  But  the  one  is  taken,  and  the  other  left. 
This,  a  child  of  God,  ascends  to  heaven ;  the  other, 
alas  !  is  lost.  Who  dare  challenge  the  justice  of  God  ? 
Mysterious  subject !  He  will  have  mercy  on  whom 
he  will  have  mercy.  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  list- 
eth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst 
not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth ;  so  13 
every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit. 

The  truth  is,  that  by  nature  this  world  is  sunk"  in 
Bin,  and  all  men  are  in  a  sense  idolaters.  In  the  days 
of  old,  it  is  said  that  Egypt  had  more  gods  than  men. 
Elsewhere  than  in  Egypt,  every  where,  as  the  Bible 
says,  *'  there  be  lords  many  and  gods  many."  The 
Hindoo  reckons  his  divinities  by  thousand  and  tens  oj 


THE  BENEFITS   FLOWING   FROM  REDEMPTION.    175 

thousands ;  but  the  world  has  a  larger  Pantheon — as 
many  gods  as  it  has  objects,  be  they  innocent  or 
guilty,  which  usurp  the  place  of  Jehovah,  and  de- 
throne him  in  the  creature's  heart.  Nor  are  men  less 
idolaters  if  drunkards,  though  they  pour  out  no  liba- 
tion to  Bacchus — the  god  of  wine ;  nor  less  idolaters, 
if  impure,  that  they  burn  no  incense  at  the  shrine  of 
Venus ;  nor  less  idolaters,  if  lovers  of  wealth,  that 
they  do  not  mold  their  gold  into  an  image  of  Plutus, 
and,  giving  a  shrine  to  what  lies  hoarded  in  their 
coffers,  offer  it  their  morning  and  evening  prayers. 
He  has  been  an  idolater,  who,  rebelling  against  Provi- 
dence, follows  the  hearse  of  a  coflined  god ;  he  made 
an  idol  of  wife  or  child;  and  now,  when  the  robber 
of  our  homes  has  stolen  them  away,  and  bears  them 
off  to  the  grave,  the  feelings  of  that  man's  heart  may 
be  expressed  in  Micah's  complaint  to  the  Danite  rob- 
bers, "  Ye  have  taken  away  my  gods  which  I  made, 
and  what  have  I  more?  and  what  is  this  that  ye  say 
unto  me.  What  aileth  thee  ?"  Since  man,  therefore,  in 
his  natural  state,  is — although  not  in  fact — in  spirit  as 
much  an  idolater  as  the  pagans  of  any  heathen  land, 
may  it  not  b^  justly  said  of  all  who  have  been  con- 
verted by  the  grace  of  God,  that  he  has  "taken  them 
from  among  the  heathen  ?" 

II.  The  power  of  divine  grace  is  strikingly  displayed 
in  this  effectual  calling. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  while  the  baser  metals 
are  often  diffused  through  the  body  of  the  rocks,  gold 
and  silver  lie  in  veins — collected  together  in  distinct 
metallic  masses.  They  are  in  the  rocks,  but  not  of 
the  rocks.  Some  believe  that  there  was  a  time,  long 
gone  by,  when — like  the  other  metals — these  lay  in 


176  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

intimate  union  with  the  mass  of  rock,  until,  by  virtue 
of  some  mysterious  electric  agency,  their  scattered 
atoms  were  put  in  motion,  and,  being  made  to  pasg 
through  the  solid  stone,  were  aggregated  in  those 
shining  veins,  where  they  now  lie  to  the  miner's  hand. 
Gold  and  silver  are  the  emblems  of  God's  people* 
And  as  by  some  power  in  nature  God  has  separated 
these  emblems  from  the  base  and  common  earths, 
even  so  by  the  power  of  his  grace  he  will  separate 
all  his  chosen  from  a  reprobate  and  rejected  world. 
They  shall  come  at  his  call;  He  will  "say  to  the 
north.  Give  up;  and  to  the  south,  Keep  not  back; 
bring  my  sons  from  afar,  and  my  daughters  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth."  The  corruption  of  nature,  cir- 
cumstances of  temptation,  an  evil  world,  the  hostility 
of  hell,  all  interpose  between  his  purpose  and  the  ob- 
jects of  his  mercy.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  tower 
up  into  a  mountain  1  Fear  not.  God  will  make  up 
the  number  of  his  chosen  ones.  "Who  art  thou,  O 
great  mountain,  before  Zerubbabel  thou  shalt  become 
a  plain." 

His  grace  shall  prove  sufficient  for  the  work.  No 
doubt  it  has  a  great  work  to  do.  Think  from  what  an. 
abominable  life  and  from  what  abandoned  company 
God  calls  some  to  grace  on  earth  and  glory  in  heaven. 
Look  at  this  Manasseh  or  at  that  Magdalene.  How 
different  their  Sabbaths  now  from  what  once  they 
were!  How  different  their  society  now  from  the  assp- 
siates  with  whom  once,  in  mad  and  frantic  dance,  they 
tvent  whirling  round  the  mouth  of  the  burning  pit ! 
Another,  and  another,  and  another  plunge  into  the 
abyss,  and  they  drown  the  lost  one's  perishing  cry  in 
louder  music ;  and  in  giddier  whirl  they  dance  on,  as 
little  deterred  by  the  fate  of  their  fellows,  as  the  in* 


THE   BENEFITS  FLOWING  FROM  REDEMPTION.    177 

sects  that  on  an  autumn  evening  dash  one  upon  an 
other  into  the  flame  of  our  candle.  Ah,  when  God's 
saints  look  down  from  their  elevation  into  the  depths 
where  grace  descended  and  found  them,  and  from 
whence  it  raised  them,  they  are  not  satisfied  to  sing, 
"He  raiseth  up  the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  and  lifteth 
up  the  beggar  from  the  dung-hill,  to  set  them  among 
piinces,  and  to  make  them  inherit  the  thrones  of 
glory;"  they  tune  their  harp-strings  to  a  higher 
strain.  Lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise,  they  are 
ready  to  adopt  the  words  which  a  humble-minded  but 
eminent  Christian  insisted  should  be  engraved  upon 
her  tombstone — "How  great  is  thy  mercy  toward 
me."  "  Thou  hast  delivered  my  soul  from  the  lowest 
hell?"  It  is  in  a  state  of  deep  ungodliness — without 
God,  without  the  love  of  God,  without  the  holiness 
that  shall  see  God,  without  true  purity  of  heart  or 
peace  of  conscience — that  grace  finds  all  it  saves. 
Such  is  not  the  judgment  of  the  world.  And  I  do 
not  deny  but  that  many  are  very  lovely  in  the  bloom 
and  beauty  of  natural  virtue — so  beautiful,  that  we 
cannot  help  loving  them.  Is  there  sin  in  that?  No; 
for  Jesus  loved  the  young  ruler  who  yet  refused  to 
follow  him.  But  then,  with  much  that  is  attractive  in 
the  graces  of  the  natural  man,  they  have  the  same 
nature,  and  lie  under  the  same  condemnation,  as  a 
world  that  liveth  in  wickedness,  and  lieth  under  sen- 
tence of  death.  An  old  writer  has  said  that  "man  in 
his  natural  state  is  half  a  devil  and  half  a  beast." 
How  wonderful  the  grace  which  changes  such  a 
monster  into  the  image  of  God,  and  converts  the 
basest  metal  into  the  purest  gold! 

It  is  indeed  amazing  to  see  what  grace  will  do,  and 
where  grace  will  grow;  in  what  unlikely  places  God 
8* 


178  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

has  his  people^  and  out  of  what  unlikely  circumstances 
he  calls  them.  I  have  seen  a  tree  crowning  the  sum- 
mit of  a  naked  rock ;  and  there  it  stood — in  search  of 
food  sending  its  roots  out  over  the  bare  stone,  and 
down  into  every  cranny — securely  anchored  by  these 
moorings  to  the  stormy  crag.  "We  have  wondered 
how  it  grew  up  there,  amid  such  rough  nursing,  how 
it  could  have  survived  many  a  wintry  blast,  and 
where,  indeed,  it  found  food  or  footing.  Yet,  like 
one  familiar  with  hardship  and  adversities,  it  has 
grown  and  lived  ;  it  has  kept  its  feet  when  the  pride 
of  the  valley  has  bent  to  the  storm;  and,  like  brave 
men,  who  think  not  of  yielding,  but  nail  their  colors 
to  the  mast,  it  has  maintained  its  proud  position,  and 
kept  its  green  flag  waving  on  nature's  topmost  bat- 
tlements. 

More  wonderful  than  this,  however,  is  it  to  see 
where  the  grace  of  God  will  live  and  grow.  Tender 
exotic !  plant  brought  from  a  more  genial  clime !  one 
would  suppose  that  it  would  require  the  kindliest 
nursing  and  most  propitious  circumstances  ;  yet  look 
here — A  Daniel  is  bred  for  God,  and  for  the  bravest 
services  in  his  cause,  in  no  pious  home  of  Israel ;  he 
grows  in  saintship  amid  the  impurities  and  effeminacy 
of  a  heathen  palace.  Paul  was  a  persecutor,  and  is 
called  to  be  a  preacLer — was  a  murderer,  and  be- 
comes a  martyr ;  once,  no  pharisee  so  proud,  now  no 
publican  so  humble.  Like  those  fabled  monsters, 
which,  sailing  on  broad  and  scaly  wings,  descended 
on  their  helpless  prey  with  streams  of  fire  issuing 
from  their  formidable  mouths,  he  set  off  for  Damascus, 
"breathing  out  threatenings  and  slaughter  against  the 
disciples  of  the  Lord."  Jesus  descended  in  person  to 
meet  this  formidable  persecutor,  and  selected  him  foi 


THE   BENEFITS   FLOWING   FROM   REDEMPTION.     179 

his  chiefest  apostle.  lie  bids  him  wash  the  blood  of 
Stephen  from  his  hands,  and  go  preach  the  gospel. 
And  where  afterwards  has  this  very  man  some  of  his 
most  devoted  friends  ?  where,  but  in  Caesar's  house- 
hold. What  can  more  strikingly  express  the  power 
of  all-sufficient  grace  than  the  words  of  John  Newton? 
One  asked  him  whether  he  thought  the  heathen  could 
be  converted.  "I  have  never  doubted,"  he  said, 
*'  that  God  could  convert  the  heathen,  since  he  con- 
verted me." 

*'  Never  despair"  should  be  the  motto  of  the  Chris- 
tian ;  and  how  should  it  keep  hope  alive  under  the 
darkest  and  most  desponding  circumstances,  to  see 
God  calling  grace  out  of  the  foulest  sin  ?  Look  at 
this  cold  creeping  worm  !  Playful  childhood  shrinks 
shuddering  from  its  touch  ;  yet  a  few  weeks,  and  with 
merry  laugh  and  flying  feet,  that  same  childhood, 
over  flowery  meadow  is  hunting  an  insect  that  never 
lights  upon  the  ground,  but — flitting  in  painted  beauty 
from  flower  to  flower — drinks  nectar  from  their  cups, 
and  sleeps  the  summer  night  away  in  the  bosom  of 
their  perfumes.  If  that  is  the  same  boy,  this  is  no  less 
the  self-same  creature.  Change  most  wonderful !  yet 
but  a  dull,  earthly  emblem  of  the  divine  transforma- 
tion wrought  on  those,  who  are  "  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  their  minds."  Gracious,  glorious  change ! 
Have  you  felt  it  ?  May  it  be  felt  by  all  of  us  !  You 
have  it  here  in  this  woman,  who,  grieved  in  her  mind, 
lies  a-weeping  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  She  was  a  sinner. 
Her  condition  had  been  the  basest ;  her  bread  the  bit- 
ierest ;  her  company  the  worst.  She  is  casting  off  her 
v^ile,  sinful  slough.  She  leaves  it.  She  rises  a  new 
creature.  The  beauty  of  the  Lord  is  on  her ;  and 
now.  with  wings  of  faith  and  love  wide  outspread,  she 


180  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKTEL. 

follows  her  Lord  to  heaven.  How  encouraging  the 
wonders  of  converting  grace!  Let  us  despair  of  none 
• — neither  of  ourselves  nor  any  one  else. 

IIL  God  will  make  up  the  number  of  his  people. 
^'  I  will  gather  you  out  of  all  countries."  There  are 
some  gatherings  in  this  world  which  are  lai'gely  alloyed 
with  pain.  Christmas  or  some  birthday  season  comes 
round,  summoning  the  members  of  a  scattered  family. 
The  circle  is  again  formed  ;  but,  like  that  of  men  who 
have  been  standing  under  fire,  and  closing  up  their 
ranks,  how  is  it  contracted  from  former  years !  There 
are  well-remembered  faces,  and  voices,  and  forms,  that 
are  missing  here  ;  and  the  family  group,  which  looks 
down  from  the  picture,  is  larger  than  the  living  com- 
pany met  at  table.  Some  are  dead  and  gone — "  Joseph 
is  not,  and  Simeon  is  not ;"  and  a  dark  cloud  hangs 
on  a  mother's  brow,  for  on  the  cheek  of  yet  another 
her  anxious  eye,  quick  to  see,  discovers  an  ominous 
spot  that  threatens  to  "  take  Benjamin  away." 

There  is  a  gathering,  also,  when,  at  the  close  of  a 
hard-fought  day,  the  roll  of  the  regiment  is  called,  and 
to  familiar  names  there  comes  back  no  answer.  How 
small  the  band  who  meet  at  night  compared  with  the 
morning  muster  !  As  the  day  wore  on,  and  the  ranks 
grew  thinner,  and  the  "red  line"  grew  less  and  less, 
they  came  back  from  each  charge  like  a  wave  broken 
on  an  iron  shore,  and  every  shock  they  stood,  and 
charge  which  they  repelled,  left  broad  gaps  to  fill. 
And  so,  now  when  the  fight  is  over,  and  the  broken 
hosts  muster  on  the  field,  to  many  a  gallant  man  in 
vain  the  trumpet  sounds,  or  war-pipe  blows  the  gath- 
ering of  the  clan.     Alas,  for  the  day  I     They  shall 


THE   BENEFITS   FLOWING   FKOM   REDEMPTION.    181 

answer  no  trumpet  but  that  which  calls  a  world  to 
judgment. 

When  daylight  breaks  on  the  shore  of  the  ship- 
wreck, there  is  also  a  mustering  and  reckoning  of 
numbers.  There,  a  mother  clasps  and  kisses  the  liv- 
ing babe  which  the  waves  had  plucked  from  her  arms, 
and  she  never  thought  more  to  see ;  and  here,  a  true 
brother  cheers  the  boy  whom  he  held  in  a  grasp  strong 
as  death,  while,  with  the  other  hand  buffeting  the  bil- 
lows, he  bore  him  safely  to  the  beach.  But  others, 
less  fortunate,  are  wringing  their  hands  in  the  wild- 
ness  of  their  grief.  Distracted  mothers  cry,  "Where 
is  my  child  ?''  Some,  with  the  dead  on  their  knees, 
sit  stunned  by  sorrow ;  frightful  to  look  upon ! 
speechless,  tearless,  motionless,  as  if  turned  into 
stone  ;  while  others,  wild,  raving,  frantic,  stand  on 
the  shores  of  the  devouring  sea,  and,  stamping  on  its 
sands,  demand  back  their  dead. 

These  are  mournful  musterings  ;  and  in  striking 
contrast  to  them  is  this  gathering  on  Melita's  shore : — 
It  was  a  frightful  storm  ;  the  coast  unknown  ;  the  ship 
grounds  in  deep  water,  with  nigh  three  hundred  souls 
on  board ;  the  night  before,  the  boats  had  been  cut 
adrift,  and  now  not  a  boat — if  boats  could  live  in  such 
a  swell — to  save  them.  The  swimmers,  who  strip  and 
plunge  into  the  sea,  may  perchance  reach  the  shore, 
but  none  else  shall  cheat  the  deep  of  its  prey.  Yet, 
when  there  is  not  another  head  among  the  billows — 
when  the  last  surviver  has  climbed  the  beach — they 
muster ;  and  soldiers,  sailors,  and  prisoners — all  are 
there.  Paul  got  their  lives,  and  not  one  has  gone 
amissing.  "  Some  on  boards,  and  some  on  broken 
pieces  of  the  ship ;"  but,  by  whatever  way  it  came  to 


182  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

pass,   it  did  come  to  pass,   as   tlie   narrative   tells— 
"  they  escaped  all  safe  to  land." 

Even  so  shall  it  be  with  those  of  whom  Jesus  says, 
*'  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life,  and  they  shall  never 
perish.  My  Father  that  gave  them  me  is  greater  than 
all,  and  no  man  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my 
Father's  hand."  Happy  those  who  sail  in  the  ship, 
and  have  embarked  in  the  same  cause  with  Christ. 
What  they  have  committed  to  him,  he  will  keep  until 
the  great  day.  And  when  all  earthly  schemes  are 
foundered,  and  life  itseff  becomes  a  wreck — plunging 
us  amid  the  billows  of  eternity's  shore — and  this  old 
world  itself  is  broken  up  like  a  worn  out  and  stranded 
ship — then,  at  the  last  day's  muster,  all  who  are 
Christ's  shall  be  there,  not  one  of  them  shall  be  amiss- 
ing ;  sooner  or  later,  all  shall  reach  the  heavenly 
coast.  "  The  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his  ;"  and 
"  all  that  his  Father  hath  given  him  he  shall  keep." 

But  my  text  tells  us  not  only  that  He  will  gather 
his  people,  but  gather  them  '*  out  of  all  countries."  Let 
those  mark  that,  who,  indulging  an  extravagant  pa- 
triotism, or  in  the  narrow  spirit  of  bigotry,  allow  them- 
selves to  "  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,"  and  are  ready 
to  say  with  the  Jews  of  old,  "  We  are  the  people  of 
the  Lord ;  the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  we."  "  We  have 
Abraham  to  our  father."  Alas!  we  are  all  too  prone 
to  think  that  we  stand  allied  to  Jesus  in  closer  rela- 
tionship than  others,  even  as  Benjamin  to  Joseph 
others  may  be  brothers,  ours  is  a  closer  brotherhood ; 
we  are  not  only  father's  but  mother's  sons.  Now,  we 
arc  patriotic  enough  to  hope  much  for  our  country — 
for  a  land  like  ours,  which  has  been  crimsoned  with 
precious  blood,  consecrated  by  prayers,  and  whose 
almost  every  mountain,  as  Eutherfurd  said,  "  has  been 


THE    BENEFITS   FLOWING   FROM   REDEMPTION.     183 

flowered  with  martyrs."  We  sympathise,  also,  with 
domestic  affection  ;  and  the  hope  that  families — so  dear 
to  ns  as  our  own — shall  rise  from  the  place  of  many 
graves  to  dwell  together  in  the  house  of  many  man- 
sions. Still,  heaven,  like  the  starry  firmament  which 
encompasses  our  globe,  is  as  near  other  countries  as 
our  own.  God  has  people  where  we  look  not  for  them, 
and  know  not  of  them.  A  hundred  prophets  are  se- 
creted in  Obadiah's  cave  ;  and  when  Elijah,  wrapped 
in  his  mantle,  stands  before  the  God  of  the  storm  and 
calm,  and  the  "still  small  voice,"  complaining,  "they 
have  slain  thy  prophets,  and  I,  even  I  only  am  left,' 
he  is  surprised  to  be  told  of  seven  thousand  in  Israel, 
as  true  men  as  he,  who  have  not  bowed  the  knee  to 
Baal.  We  may  be  astonished  to  miss  some  in  heaven 
whom  we  calculated  on  meeting  there,  we  shall  be 
astonished  to  see  some  there  whom  we  never  expected. 
The  gospel  belongs  to  no  country,  but  to  all.  Every 
sea  is  not  paved  with  pearl  shells;  nor  does  every 
soil  grow  vines  and  palms,  nor  does  every  mine  sparkle 
with  gems,  nor  do  the  streams  of  every  land  roll 
their  waters  over  golden  sands.  These  symbols  of 
grace  have  a  narrow  range ;  but  not  grace  herself. 
She  owns  no  lines  of  latitude  or  longitude.  All  cli- 
mates are  one  to  her.  She  wears  no  party  badge ;  and 
belongs  neither  to  class  nor  color.  She  takes  no  ob- 
jection to  a  negro's  skin.  He,  whom  his  white  op- 
pressor refused  to  worship  with,  eat  with,  sail  with, 
or  dwell  with  on  earth,  shall  dwell,  and  worship,  and 
reign  where  his  master  may  never  be;  and  when — 
as  may  often  happen — the  white  skin  is  shut  out, 
and  the  black  man,  now  and  for  ever  free,  passes  in 
at  the  celestial  gate,  it  shall  furnish  but  another  illus- 
tration of  the  truth,  that  salvation  is  "not  of  blood, 


184  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man, 
but  of  God." 

With  this  truth,  as  b}^  a  zone  of  love,  elastic  enough 
to  be  stretched  round  the  globe,  we  would  bind  man- 
kind together.  Let  it  awaken  in  Christian  hearts  an 
interest  and  an  affection  for  every  land.  Humanity 
rejoices  with  piety  in  the  prospects  that  it  opens.  The 
distant  natives  of  the  Poles  and  Equator  shall  be  asso- 
ciated in  heaven  ;  they  who  have  never  met  on  earth 
shall  meet  there  ;  and  they  who  never  could  agree  on 
earth  shall  agree  there ;  the  desire  of  our  hearts  shall 
be  accomplished  there ;  and  there  those  who,  scowled 
at  by  bigots,  and  pitied  by  many  as  amiable  vision- 
aries, have  sought  a  closer  union  among  God's  children 
here,  shall  have  their  fondest  wishes  gratified.  From 
the  dreadful  wars  that  now  shake  the  earth,  and  the 
hardly  less  painful  battle-fields  of  churches,  it  is  a 
pleasant  change  to  contemplate  this  general  assembly, 
where — Jesus  himself  presiding — the  representatives 
of  all  nations,  tribes,  languages,  sects,  and  parties,  are 
met  to  sing  the  jubilee  of  universal  peace,  and  cele- 
brate the  funeral  of  all  their  differences.  Over  that 
grave  no  tears  are  shed ;  beside  it  no  pale  mourners 
stand ;  all  quarrels  and  controversies,  with  their  wea- 
pons of  war,  are  now  for  ever  buried — buried  without 
fear  of  resurrection,  and  above  it  heaven  rises,  a  temple 
dedicated  to  eternal  concord,  "  whose  builder  and  maker 
is  God." 

Dishonored  often  in  the  present  time  by  their  quar- 
rels, and  always  by  their  separation,  Jesus  shall  then 
be  glorified  in  all  his  saints.  It  is  the  dust  and  the 
rust  which  the  liquid  mercury  has  contracted  that  im- 
pair the  beauty  of  its  luster,  and  prevent  the  union  of 
its  divided  globules.     And  what  is  it  but  earthly  con- 


THE   BENEFITS    FLOWING   FROM   REDEMPTION.    185 

taminations  and  unworthy  passions  that  keep  true 
Christians  apart.  From  these  let  them  be  purified  by 
the  genial  fires  of  love,  or  the  sharp  fires  of  suffering, 
and  union  will  follow — follow  as  when  the  purified 
globules  of  quicksilver,  brought  into  contact,  run  into 
each  other's  embraces  to  form  one  shining  and  brilliant 
mass.  May  God  give  his  divine  Spirit  of  love  and 
unity  for  sucb  a  blessed  end — a  consummation  so  de- 
voutly to  be  wished  for.  The  prophecy  fulfilled 
which  foretells  such  an  union,  then,  the  redeemed  of 
the  cross,  and  elect  of  God,  shall  make  up  a  countless 
company,  one  which  no  man  can  number — multitudes 
and  myriads — offering  such  a  contrast  to  the  handful 
who  follow  the  steps  of  the  Man  of  sorrows,  that  we 
shall  hear  these  words  no  more— -"Ye  are  a  little 
flock." 

"He  Cometh,  he  cometh  to  judge  the  earth;"  and 
how?  after  what  manner?  in  what  royal  state?  "Be- 
hold he  cometh  with  clouds  " — clouds,  that  on  their 
nearer  approach  to  earth,  when  the  general  mass  shall 
resolve  itself  into  individual  objects,  may  be  found  to 
consist  of  innumerable  hosts  of  winged  and  shining 
angels.  On  that  great  occasion,  the  saints — countless 
as  the  atoms  that  float  in  the  vapors  of  the  sky,  or  the 
drops  that  fall  in  its  showers — shall  also  form,  to  use 
Paul's  expression,  "  a  cloud  of  witnesses."  Already 
they  form  a  cloud  in  heaven  ;  and  to  the  eye  of  faith 
it  is  as  those  nebulous  spots,  which,  by  their  great  dis- 
tance, shine  only  with  a  faint  luminosity  far  away  in 
the  depths  of  the  starry  firmament,  but  which,  under 
the  eye  and  instruments  of  the  astronomer,  are  re- 
solved into  a  countless  ao^orreg^ate  of  burninsr  suns. 

DO         O  O 

lY.  We  are  assured  that  God  will  bring  all  his  peo 


186  THE   GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

pie  to  glory,  by  the  fact  that  his  own  honor,  as  well 
as  their  welfare,  is  concerned  in  the  matter. 

In  that  lay  the  salvation  of  ancient  IsraeL  "  IIow 
long  will  this  people  provoke  me  ?  I  wdll  smite  them 
with  the  pestilence,  and  disinherit  them  ;  and  I  will 
make  of  thee  a  greater  nation  and  mightier  than  they." 
Thus  spake  the  Lord  to  Moses,  and  how  did  he  reply? 
He  had  certainly  a  great  temptation  to  make  no  reply 
and  let  things  take  their  course,  since  the  issue  w^ould 
bring  him  and  his  such  great  advantage.  Type  of  the 
Saviour,  he  flung  himself  between  justice  and  her 
culprits.  He  ventures  to  remonstrate  with  God.  He 
sets  himself  to  show,  that  the  destruction  of  Israel — 
although  the  just  punishment  of  their  sins — might 
militate  against  God's  declarative  honor,  and  expose 
it  to  suspicion  ;  and  that,  therefore,  although  he  could 
not  spare  them  for  their  sakes,  he  should  spare  them 
for  his  own.  Moses  was  concerned  for  the  fate  of  his 
countrymen.  Like  a  true  patriot,  he  declined  to  rise 
on  their  ruins  ;  but  more  deeply  concerned  still  for  the 
tionor  of  God,  he  takes  courage  to  reply,  "  Then  the 
Egyptian  shall  hear  it,  and  they  will  tell  it  to  the  in- 
habitants of  this  land.  Kow  if  thou  shalt  kill  all  this 
people  as  one  man,  then  the  nations  which  have  heard 
of  thee  will  speak,  saying,  Because  the  Lord  w^as  not 
able  to  bring  this  people  into  the  land  which  he  sware 
unto  them,  therefore  he  had  slain  them  in  the  wil 
derness." 

As  it  was  then,  so  is  it  now.  God's  honor,  and 
truth,  and  covenant,  are  all  concerned — are,  so  to 
speak,  compromised  to  make  good  the  promise,  that 
he  will  bi-ing  his  redeemed  to  glory.  It  is,  indeed,  no 
easy  v/ork  to  bring  believers  safe  to  glory.  When  1 
think  of  the  sins  to  be  forgiven,  and  the  difficulties  to 


THE   BENEFITS   FLOWING   FROM   REDEMPTION.     187 

be  overcome,  the  wonder  seems  not  that  few  get  to 
heaven,  but  that  any  get  there.  We  have  read  of 
voyages,  where  for  nights  the  sailors  enjoj^ed  n6  sleep, 
and  for  days  saw  no  sun.  Lying  at  one  time  becalm- 
ed beneath  a  fiery  sk}^,  at  another  time  shivering 
amid  fields  of  ice ;  with  sunken  rocks  around  them, 
and  treacherous  currents  sweeping  them  on  dangerous 
reefs;  exposed  to  sudden  squalls,  long,  dark  nights, 
and  fearful  tempests,  the  wonder  was  that  their  batter- 
ed ship  ever  reached  the  port.  I  select  a  case  of 
recent  occurrence.  Some  while  ago  a  vessel  entered 
one  of  our  western  harbors,  and  the  town  poured 
out  to  see.  Well  they  might.  It  had  left  the  Ameri- 
can shore  with  a  large,  able-bodied  crew.  They  have 
hardly  lost  sight  of  land  when  the  pestilence  boards 
them  ;  victim  falls  after  victim  ;  another  and  another 
is  committed  to  the  deep,  as  from  deck  to  deck,  and 
yard  to  yard  she  pursues  her  prey ;  nor  does  she 
spread  her  wings  to  leave  that  ill-fated  ship,  till  she 
has  left  but  two  to  work  it  over  the  broad  waters  of  a 
wintry  sea.  And  when,  with  Providence  at  the  helm, 
these  two  men,  worn  by  work  and  watching  to  ghast- 
ly skeletons,  have  brought  their  ship  to  land,  and  now 
kiss  once  more  wives  and  little  ones  they  never 
thought  more  to  see,  and  step  once  more  on  a  green 
earth  they  never  more  hoped  to  touch,  men  run  to  see 
the  sight,  and  hear  the  adventures  of  a  voyage  brought 
against  such  dreadful  odds  to  such  a  happy  issue. 

Yet  there  is  never  a  bark  drops  anchor  in  heaven, 
nor  a  weary  voyager  steps  out  on  its  celestial  strand, 
but  is  a  still  greater  wonder.  Save  for  the  assurance 
that  what  God  hath  begun  He  will  finish — that  what 
concerns  his  people  He  will  perfect — Oh,  how  often 
would  our  hope  of  final  blessedness  altogether  expire. 


188  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

Well  might  David  say,  "I  had  fainted  unless  I  had 
believed."  And  knowing  what  we  know,  and  feeling 
what  we  feel,  how  entirely  may  we  acquiesce  in  the 
old  remark,  that  the  greatest  wonder  we  shall  see  in 
heaven,  shall  be  to  see  ourselves  there. 

Yet  let  Christians  take  comfort.  Your  good  and 
God's  glory  ever  run  in  the  same  direction.  They  are 
the  parallel  rails  on  which  the  chariot  of  salvation 
rolls.  They  shall  bring  you  to  the  Jerusalem  above. 
To  compare  small  things  with  great,  our  journey 
there,  with  its  dangers  and  changes,  has  sometimes 
appeared  to  me  like  that  of  a  passenger  to  our  own 
city.  On  these  iron  roads  he  now  travels  along  rich 
and  fertile  plains  ;  now,  at  a  dangerous  and  dizzy 
height  he  flies  across  intervening  valleys;  now,  he 
rushes  through  a  narrow  gorge  cut  in  the  solid  rock, 
with  nothing  seen  but  heaven ;  now,  boring  into  the 
earth,  he  dashes  into  some  gaping  cavern,  for  a  while 
losing  sight  even  of  heaven  itself,  and  then  again  he 
sweeps  forth  and  on  in  sunshine,  till  at  length  the 
domes,  and  towers,  and  temples  of  the  city  burst  on 
his  view.  And,  these  close  at  hand,  he  concludes  his 
journey  by  passing  through  an  emblem  of  death.  He 
enters  a  gloomy  arch,  advances  in  darkness  through  a 
place  of  graves,  and  then,  of  a  sudden,  emerges  into 
day,  to  feast  his  eyes  on  the  glorious  scenery,  and  re- 
ceive the  congratulations  of  waiting  friends,  as  lie 
finds  himself  safe  "  in  the  midst  of  the  city." 


Pail  lustifi^i. 


Tlien  will  I  sprinkle  clean  water  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean :  frcaa 
all  your  filtliiuess,  and  from  all  your  idols,  will  I  cleanse  you.— 
EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  25. 

In  the  earliest  peopled  regions  of  the  world,  there 
still  stand  some  ancient  monuments,  bold  in  plan,  and 
colossal  in  dimensions,  defying  both  time  and  change. 
Raised,  as  these  rude  structures  were,  in  the  very  in- 
fancy of  art,  and  ere  the  giant  arms  of  machinery  had 
grown  into  their  present  strength,  they  are  objects  of 
deep  interest,  both  to  the  architect  and  antiquary. 
How  came  these  great  stones  there?  By  what  means 
or  machinery  did  man,  in  days  so  rude,  raise  such 
ponderous  masses? 

Science  has  questions  as  inexplicable  to  put  regard- 
ing the  works  of  nature.  We  climb  a  mountain  range, 
and,  standing  on  its  apex,  see  valley  and  plain  stretch- 
ing far  away  to  meet  the  ocean,  that  lies,  gleaming, 
like  a  silver  border,  on  the  dim  and  distant  horizon. 
After  expatiating  on  the  beauties  of  the  scene  around 
us,  our  eye  turns  downwards,  and  lights  on  a  very 
extraordinary  object — a  shell — a  plant — a  zoophite, 
whose  proper  habitat  is  the  low  sea-shore — or,  lower 
still,  down  in  the  dark  depths  of  ocean — embedded 
m  the  rock.  IIow  came  it  here  ?  what  business  has 
it  here?  We  find,  in  fact,  that,  although  now  raised 
fiome  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  the  platform  on 
which  we  stand  had  once  been  an  ocean's  bed.     And 


190  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

he  would  be  a  stupid  man,  in  whose  mind  the  ques- 
tion would  not  rise,  what  agent,  of  tremendous  power 
was  that,  which,  upheaving  the  crust  of  earth,  has 
turned  the  floor  of  a  sea,  where  corals  grew,  and  fish 
swam,  into  a  mountain  crag  whereon  eagles  build 
their  nests. 

In  the  Providence  which  determines  the  lot  of  man, 
history  presents  subjects  not  less  interesting.  It  is  a 
curious  thing  how  a  sea  shell  came  to  be  embedded 
in  the  summit  of  a  mountain  crag.  It  is  even  a  cu- 
rious thing  to  watch  the  progress  of  a  worm,  as  it 
climbs  up  tree  or  wall  to  the  place  of  its  apparent 
death  and  beautiful  resurrection.  It  is  still  more  in- 
teresting to  see  a  man  fighting,  toiling,  tearing  his 
way  up  from  the  bottom,  to  the  sunny  but  often  cold 
and  stormy  pinnacles  of  society ;  so  that,  perhaps, 
when  dead,  he,  whose  birth  a  cottage  saw,,  lies  in  state 
within  a  palace.  There  are  all  manner  of  ways  by 
which  men  rise  in  the  world.  Some,  flung  up  by  na- 
tional convulsions,  rise  like  the  fire  stones  shot  from 
a  volcano's  mouth ;  they  flare  for  a  little,  and  then 
are  lost  in  night.  Some,  like  sea-weed  or  an  empty 
shell,  are  thrown  up  by  the  wave  of  popular  agitation, 
only  by  its  reflux  to  be  swept  back  again  into  oblivion. 
Some  rise  in  times  of  trouble  and  of  turmoil,  like  the 
dust  and  light  straws  of  the  whirlwind ;  the  lighter 
they  are  the  more  sure  are  they  to  rise.  Some  ascend 
by  the  foul  and  slippery  path  of  crime,  rising  on  other 
men's  shoulders,  and  building  dishonest  fortunes  on 
honest  men's  ruin.  While  some, — being  amid  all  the 
mysteries  of  Providence,  witnesses  that  there  is  a  just 
God  upon  earth, — illustrate  the  adage  of  the  world, 
'' Honesty  is  the  best  policy,"  and  the  still  better 
saying  of  Scripture,  "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto  all 


MAN   JUSTIFIED.  191 

tilings,  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of 
that  which  is  to  come."  But  there  is  no  rising  so  in- 
teresting to  study,  or  by  those  who  are  fired  with  a 
holy  ambition,  so  blessed  to  emulate,  as  that  of  a 
sinner  into  a  saint — of  a  soul  to  glory.  That  man, 
however,  enjoj^s  one  of  the  charms  of  history,  and 
reads  one  of  the  strangest  chapters  in  the  book  of 
Providence,  who  traces  the  successive  steps  by  which 
great  actors  in  the  theatre  of  this  world  have  mounted 
to  fame  and  fortune  out  of  the  deepest  obscurity. 

To  us  there  are  inquiries  of  greater  interest  than 
any  of  these.  Few  rise  from  cottages  to  be  kings^ 
nor  are  such  giddy  elevations  desirable ;  most  men 
fall  and  are  crushed  before  they  reach  the  top  of  their 
ambition,  and  the  few  who  have  reached  it  have 
learned  that  "  uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown.'' 
It  is  of  little  moment  to  me,  how  this  base-born  but 
brave  peasant  reached  a  throne  ;  but  to  me  it  is  every 
thing  to  know  how  this  sinner  became  a  saint,  and 
from  being  the  slave  of  Satan  and  very  drudge  of  sin 
rose  to  a  crown  in  heaven — to  be  a  king  and  priest  to 
God.  If  I  am  engrossed  with  the  momentous  inter- 
ests of  eternity,  and  have  not  yet  made  my  calling 
sure,  but  am  still  lying  in  the  anxieties  and  darkness 
of  spiritual  distress,  it  will  be  of  little  importance  to 
me,  how  the  shell,  which  once  lay  in  the  depths  of 
ocean,  has  been  raised  into  the  light  and  regions  of 
the  sunny  air,  but  to  me  it  is  every  thing  to  know, 
how  I,  lying  buried  beneath  the  wrath  of  God,  can  be 
raised  to  the  sunshine  of  his  peace  and  favor.  To  me 
the  question  is  of  the  highest  importance,  which  the 
elder  put  to  John,  when,  pointing  to  the  multitude 
whom  no  man  can  number,  "  who  stood  before  the 
throne  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes. 


192  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  palms  in  their  hands,"  he  said,  "  who  are  these, 
and  whence  came  they?"  I  am  deeply  interested  to 
know  by  what  means  these,  each  one — originally  like 
myself — a  being  of  sin  and  guilt,  escaped  the  wrath 
of  God,  and  rose  to  such  lofty  favor  ?  Recognizing 
in  that  company,  one,  and  another,  and  yet  another — 
who  were  the  chief  of  sinners,  I  take  heart  to  say,  if 
they  got  up  there,  why  should  not  I  ?  The  door  that 
was  w4de  enough  and  high  enough  for  them,  can  not 
be  too  strait  or  low  for  me.  These  questions,  in  other 
words,  how  does  God  save  the  sinner?  and  what  am 
I  to  do  to  be  saved  ? — questions,  the  most  important 
which  you  can  ask,  or  I  can  attempt  to  answer,  are 
those  at  which,  in  the  progress  of  these  discourses,  we 
are  now  arrived. 

I  intend,  God  helping  me,  to  set  forth  the  means  by 
which  He  who  is  most  willing  to  save  sinners,  accom- 
complishes  his  generous  and  gracious  purpose.  I  am 
now  to  show  you  that  famous  breach  by  which  the 
soldiers  of  the  cross,  led  on  by  their  Captain,  with 
banners  flying  and  sword  in  hand,  have  taken  the 
kingdom,  and,  trampling  under  foot  the  body  of  sin, 
have  entered  into  glory  with  holy  violence.  We  are 
now  to  look  upon  that  famous  ladder  which  the  hand 
of  God  has  let  down  from  heaven,  and  by  which  Abel, 
and  Adam,  and  Enoch,  and  Noah,  and  Abraham,  and 
Jacob,  and  Daniel,  and  Peter,  and  Paul,  and  the 
Marys,  and  Dorcas,  and  Phoebe — martyrs  and  confess- 
ors, propnets  and  saints — pressing  on  each  other's 
heels,  have  scaled  the  walls  of  glory,  and  entered  into 
possession  of  the  celestial  city.  And  now,  as  the  angel 
who  had  blown  the  coal  and  baked  the  bread  beside 
the  lonely  sleeper — for  such  things  angels  will  do  for 
saints— woke  Elijah  and  said  to  him,   "rise  and  eat;" 


MAN   JUSTIFIED.  l9S 

<ritli  this  ladder  within  your  reach — you  at  its  foot, 
and  heaven  at  its  top — I  say,  rise  and  climb.  What 
meanest  thou,  0  sleeper?  What  do  you  sleeping 
there?  The  slightest  turn,  and  you  roll  over  into  the 
pit,  on  whose  dreadful  edge  sinners  make  their  bed 
Itoaso  up,  look  up,  rise  and  climb  ;  God  helping  you 
by  faith,  lay  hold  of  Him  who  says — "  I  am  the  Wa^^, 
the  Truth,  and  the  Life." 

]n  entering  on  the  subject  of  a  sinner's  justification, 
1  remark — 

I.  God's  j>3«Dple  are  not  chosen  because  they  are 
holy. 

They  are  chosen  that  they  may  become  holy,  not 
because  they  have  become  so.  It  is  after  God  elects 
that  God  justifies,  as  it  is  after  he  has  justified  that  he 
sanctifies.  This  appears — stands  out — most  visibly 
in  the  very  terms  of  the  text,  "  then  will  I  sprinkle 
clean  water  upon  you."  Do  not,  I  pray  you,  suppose 
that  we  disparage  holiness.  In  the  doctrines  of  grace 
holiness  holds  a  most  important  place ;  a  place  so  im- 
portant— so  prominent  and  conspicuous — that  the 
notion,  cnce  current,  that  the  doctrine  of  a  free  sal- 
vation through  the  mercy  of  God  and  the  merits  of 
Christ  alone  is  unfavorable  to  the  interests  of  morality, 
can  only  be  ascribed  to  the  malice  of  the  natural  heart, 
or  the  grossest  ignorance.  These  doctrines  set  forth 
the  love  of  Christ  as  a  believer's  great  motive  power, 
and  it  might  be  a  sufficient  refutation  of  the  calumny 
to  quote  the  glowing  exclamation  of  the  poet — 

"  Thou  bleeding  Lamb  ! 
The  best  morality  ia  love  of  Thee." 

But  what  place  in  the  scheme  of  grace  do  we  assign 

Q 


194  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

to  holiness?  what  language  do  we  hold  regarding 
it?  We  say  that  without  holiness  no  m-an  shall  see 
God.  Could  more  be  asked  or  said  than  that?  AVe 
say  so  to  all  men — to  the  sovereign  on  his  throne  we 
say,  Without  holiness  thou  shale  never  wear  a  crown 
m  heaven;  to  the  minister  in  his  pulpit  we  say, 
Without  holiness  thou  shalt  never  minister  before  the 
Throne — thou  mayst  save  others,  but  shalt  be  thyself 
a  castaway ;  to  the  communicant  at  the  Lord's  table 
we  say,  Without  holiness  thou  shalt  never  sit  at  the 
marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb ;  thou  mayst  drink  oi 
the  juice  of  the  grape — but  shalt  never  drink  the  new 
wine  of  his  "  Father's  kingdom  ;"  we  say  to  all,  "If 
any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of 
his."  You  may  have  his  name ;  but  that  is  worth 
nothing;  unless  with  the  name  you  have  the  nature 
of  Him  who  was  holy,  harmless,  and  undefiled.  Grace 
may  make  you  his ;  but  whatever  you  may  become, 
you  are  not  so  now,  unless  there  be  germinating  in 
you  the  mind  of  Him  who  was  holiness  in  the  flesh — 
incarnate  virtue.  We  ever  echo  the  exhortation  of 
the  Apostle,    "Be  careful  to  maintain  good  works." 

This  is  surely  no  lax  or  immoral  creed.  So  f\ir 
from  holding  good  works  cheap,  we  say  that  by  them 
God  is  glorified,  by  them  fliith  is  justified,  and,  by 
them  on  the  great  day  of  judgment  shall  every  man 
be  tried.  You  are  not  to  be  justified  by  yonv  works, 
but  you  are  to  be  tried  by  them.  The  rule  of  that  day 
shall  be  this — "the  tree  is  known  by  his  fruit." 
"Every  tree  which  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  ia 
hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  fire."  Are  any  of  you, 
then,  living  in  sin — known,  habitual,  cherished  sin — 
and  yet  in  hope?  Ob,  how  great  is  your  mistake! 
You  may  be  saved  from  your  sins,   you  cannot  be 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  195 

saved  in  your  sins.  One  sin,  even  one!  is  the  "dead 
fly,  that  maketh  the  apothecary's  ointment  to  stink ;" 
is  the  leak,  however  small  and  concealed  from  the 
public  eye,  which,  if  not  stopped,  fills  and  sinks  the 
ship.  Men  talk  of  poverty,  misfortune,  disease,  be- 
reavement, as  evils !  There  is  no  radical  evil  in  this 
world  but  sin ;  if  you  still  persist  in  calling  other 
things  evils,  remember  sin  is  their  mother — these  her 
hateful  progeny.  No  sin,  no  suffering;  no  sin,  no 
sorrow;  no  sin,  no  sting,  no  death,  no  grave,  no  hell. 
We  change  the  saying  of  Paul,  and,  so  changed,  apply 
to  sins  what  he  spoke  of  the  sailors.  He  said  of  the 
seamen,  Except  these  abide  in  the  ship  ye  cannot  be 
saved.  To  prevail  on  you  to  abandon  and  cast  your 
sins — these  Jonahs — overboard,  we  say,  i/"  these  abide 
ye  cannot  be  saved. 

Now,  while  maintaining,  to  the  utmost,  that  holi 
ness  is  essential  to  salvation,  we  nevertheless  regard 
it  as  of  the  highest  importance  that  holiness  should 
have  a  right  and  not  a  wrong  place  in  our  system. 
Should  earthquakes  shake  the  ground,  or  even  rude 
storms  the  air,  that  pyramid  must  stand  unsafely 
which,  according  to  the  poet, 

"  Like  an  inverted  cone, 
"Wants  the  proper  base  to  stand  upon." 

That  body  would  be  a  monster  in  nature,  hideous  of 
aspect,  and  happily  of  brief  existence,  which  should 
have  its  organs  and  members  so  misplaced,  that  the 
hands  should  occupy  the  place  of  the  feet,  and  whose 
heart  should  beat  in  the  cavity  of  the  brain.  The 
fruitfulness,  beauty,  the  very  life  of  a  tree,  dependa 
not  only  on  its  having  roots  and  branches,  but  on 
these  members  being  placed  in  their  natural  order. 


196  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Let  a  tree  be  planted  upside  down — the  roots  in  the 
air  and  the  branches  in  the  earth — and  I  need  not  ask 
how  much  fruit  it  would  yield,  nor  how  many  seasons 
the  unhappy  plant  would  survive  such  barbarous  and 
blundering  treatment. 

Well,  if  it  be  of  such  consequence  in  these  things 
not  to  depart  from  the  order  established  in  nature,  it 
is  of  no  less  consequence  not  to  depart  from  the  order 
established  in  the  kingdom  of  grace?  It  is  not 
enough  that  men  hold  right  doctrines, — nay  in  a 
sense  hold  all  the  doctrines.  The  right  doctrines 
must  be  in  the  right  places.  Your  astronomy  may 
include  all  the  bodies  that  enter  into  our  solar  system, 
but  if  it  give  a  satellite  the  imperial  position  of  the 
sun,  your  system  passes  into  inextricable  confusion. 
The  machine  may  have  all  its  parts,  but,  if  the  great 
wheel  that  moves  them,  or  the  balance-wheel  that 
regulates  them,  revolve  on  any  shaft  but  its  own,  the 
entire  mechanism  stops,  or  flies  round  in  furious  and 
destructive  disorder.  Even  so,  although  all  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel  be  present  in  our  creed,  we  may 
commit  a  great,  a  dangerous — possibly  a  fatal  mistake 
• — by  any  mal-arrangement  that  would  put  these  out 
of  their  proper  place.  And  such  is  their  mistake  who 
build  election  upon  holiness — not  holiness  upon  elec- 
tion ;  who  regard  good  works,  not  as  the  result,  but 
the  cause  of  God's  mercy ;  and  who,  mistaking  the 
root  for  the  fruit,  think  that  God  adopts  men  because 
they  are  holy;  when,  in  point  of  fact,  he  makes  them 
holy,  just  because  he  has  adopted  them. 

This,  believe  me,  is  not  an  example  of  the  nice  and 
fine  distinctions  which  theologians  sometimes  spin, 
nor  of  the  matters  about  which  bigots  may  contend, 
but  good  men  need  give  themselves  no  trouble.  Some 


MAN   JUSTIFIED.  197 

small  tilings  have  great  effects.  A  slight  wedge  of 
wood  or  small  pebble  lying  upon  the  slip,  prevents 
the  vessel  from  being  launched  on  the  bosom  of  a  tide 
that  swells  to  receive  her  in  its  arms.  The  full  tide 
of  love  flows  in  Jesus'  heart,  his  bosom  is  open  to  re- 
ceive the  sinner,  every  thing  conspires  to  his  salvation, 
and  yet  in  such  happy  circumstances,  we  have  seen 
the  notion,  that  a  man  must  be  holy  before  he  goes 
to  Christ,  arrest  a  soul  that  had  already  moved,  ad- 
vanced, got  some  way  in  its  course,  and  as  we  thought, 
was  off  for  heaven.  This  is  a  delusion  of  the  enemy 
of  souls.  I  believe  it  to  be  a  common  wile  of  Satan. 
When  conscience  gets  so  uneasy,  that  for  all  the  devil's 
rocking  it  won't  sleep,  and  men  grow  anxious  about 
their  eternal  interests,  and  will  be  out  of  the  "  City 
of  Destruction,"  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  with  him  to 
send  them  away  in  a  wrong  direction.  Would  you 
make  yourselves  more  pure  and  more  penitent,  that 
you  may  have  some  right  to  divine  mercy  ?  You  are 
trying  to  weave  ropes  of  sand,  and  he  who  has  set  you 
to  a  task  so  impracticable  knows  well  that  you  will  by 
and  bye  abandon  it  in  despair ;  and  then,  perhaps, 
returning  to  your  old  favorite  sins,  like  a  drunkard 
to  his  cup  after  a  season  of  sobriety,  you  will  furnish 
another  illustration  of  the  saying — "  The  last  state  of 
that  man  is  worse  than  the  first." 

With  God's  help  I  would  endeavor  to  disabuse 
your  minds  of  such  an  error.  For  that  purpose,  let 
me  borrow  an  illustration  from  an  asylum,  which,  in 
the  form  of  a  ragged  school,  opens  its  loving  arms  to 
the  outcast,  like  the  Gospel  which  it  teaches,  and  seeks 
to  train  up  to  God  and  glory  the  poor  children  whom 
its  piety  and  pity  adopts.  On  entering  these  blessed 
doors, — the  gate  of  hope  to  many, — ^your  attention  is 


19b  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

caught  hy  a  child,  who  is  supported  there  by  thti 
bounty  of  some  generous  Christian.  The  boy  now 
can  spell  his  way  through  a  bible — once  a  sealed  book 
to  him ;  he  knows  now,  and,  in  tones  fitted  to  melt 
any  heart,  he  sweetly  sings  of  a  Saviour,  of  whom 
once  he  knew  not  even  the  name.  These  little  hands 
are  now  skillful  to  weave  the  net  or  ply  the  shuttle, 
which  once  were  alert  only  to  steal,  or  held  out  in 
their  pitiful  emaciation  to  plead  for  charity  ;  and  there 
is  such  sharp  intelligence  in  that  bright  eye,  and  such 
an  open  air  of  honesty  in  his  beaming  face,  and  such 
attention  to  cleanliness  appears  in  his  dress  and  person, 
and  such  buoyancy  in  his  whole  bearing,  as  if  hope 
hailed  a  brighter  future  for  that  poor  child,  that  these 
bespeak  your  favor.  But  do  you  conclude  that  they 
were  the  child's  passport  to  this  asylum?  Do  you 
suppose,  that  when  he  wandered,  an  outcast  upon  the 
winter  streets,  shoeless  among  the  snow,  shivering  in 
the  cold,  it  was  what  now  so  interests  you  that  caught 
the  eye  of  pity,  or  that  to  these  habits  and  accomplish- 
ments, learned  under  a  parental  roof,  the  child  owed 
his  adoption  ?  How  great  your  mistake.  This  were, 
indeed,  to  turn  things  upside  down.  He  was  adopted, 
not  for  the  sake  of  these,  but  notwithstanding  the 
want  of  them.  It  was  the  very  want  of  them,  which, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  carried  his  election.  It  was  his 
wretchedness  that  saved  him.  It  was  his  very  misery 
— when  he  stood  there  with  beggary  on  his  back  and 
hunger  in  his  looks,  cold,  naked,  wicked,  wretched — 
which  pleaded  for  him,  and,  with  more  power  than  elo- 
quence, melted  men's  hearts  and  gained  his  cause. 
The  clean  hands,  and  rosy  cheek,  and  lighted  eye, 
and  decent  habits,  and  arts  and  knowledge,  and  all 
which  now  wins  our  regard  are  the  consequences  of 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  199 

his  adoption,  and  never  were  nor  could  be  its  cause. 
Evon  so  is  it  with  holy  habits  and  a  holy  heart  in  the 
matter  of  redemption — 

*'  Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  I  have  chosen  you," 
sa_ys  God.  Blessed  truth!  Glad  tidings,  indeed,  to 
sinners  !  for,  since  God  chooses  his  people,  not  because 
they  are  holy,  but  to  make  them  so,  who  may  not  be 
chosen  ?  and  who  should  not  hope  ?  To  my  eye  hope, 
in  that  truth,  bends  her  bright  bow  on  life's  blackest 
cloud,  and  sends  a  beam  of  light  down  into  the  guilt- 
iest heart. 

II.  1a  redemption,  the  saved  are  not  justified  by 
themselves,  but  by  God. 

This  is  no  recondite  truth — one  which  we  need  to 
dig  or  dive  for.  The  pearl  lies  in  the  dark  depths  of 
the  sea,  but  gold  commonly  lies  near  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  Like  the  precious  ore  gleaming  from  the 
naked  rock,  this  truth  shines  on  the  face  of  my  text ; 
a  child's  eya  can  catch  it  there,  and  a  child's  mind 
comprehend  it.  For  how  is  a  sinner  made  clean  ?  but 
through  the  dpplication  of  what  is  here  called  clean 
water ;  and  by  whom,  according  to  the  text,  is  that 
water  applied  ?  It  is  applied  to  the  sinner,  but  not  by 
the  sinner. 

Elisha  remained  in  his  house,  nor  accompanied 
Naaman  to  the  banks  of  Jordan.  Commanded  by 
the  prophet  to  wash,  and — when  pride  was  ready  to 
revolt  from  so  mean  a  remedy — persuaded  by  his 
servants  that  it  were  a  foolish  thing  not  to  try  so  small 
a  remedy  for  so  great  a  cure,  the  Syrian  descended 
into  the  water;  and,  going  down  a  leper,  rose  at  the 
seventh  dip  with  a  skin  fresh  as  a  new  born  child's. 
A  type  of  salvation  in  one  respect,  that  case  is  not  so 


200  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

in  another.  It  is  not  so  in  this,  that  Naaman  bathed 
himself; — the  sinner  does  not.  Here,  as  in  the  sacra- 
ment of  baptism,  there  are  two  parties.  The  baptized 
and  the  baptizer  are  not  one.  Whether  that  ordinance 
he  administered  to  infant  or  adult,  the  water  is  applied 
bj  another's  hand ;  and,  as  no  man  baptizes,  so  no 
man  saves  himself,  no  man  justifies  himself,  no  man 
ever  sprinkled  himself  with  that  atoning  blood,  which 
we  shall  show  to  be  symbolized  bj  this  "clean  water." 
The  bloody  baptism  is  administered  by  the  hand 
which  kindled  the  sun,  strstched  out  the  curtain  of 
the  heavens,  and  sustains  the  universe.  To  God,  as 
Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith,  the  whole  glory  of 
salvation  belongs;  for,  observe  how  he  says  in  my 
text — "  /  will  sprinkle  clean  water  upon  you,  and  ye 
shall  be  clean." 

Job  inquires,  "  How  should  man  be  just  with  God?" 
A  great  question — one  in  which  we  have  the  deepest 
interest — one  for  which  the  Gospel  was  revealed,  and 
the  cross  of  Calvary  raised  to  answer — and  one  to 
which  our  own  merits  and  works  furnish  no  satisfac- 
tory solution.  It  is  natural,  most  natural,  for  us  to 
trust  in  these.  I  do  not  deny  it.  Observe  what  hap- 
pens when  the  cry  rises  at  sea — "  A  man  overboard  !" 
You  rush  to  the  side  of  the  vessel ;  you  watch  the 
place  where  the  rising  air-bells  and  boiling  deep  tell 
that  he  has  gone  down.  After  some  moments  of 
breathless  anxiety,  you  see  his  head  emerge  from  the 
wave.  Now,  that  man  is  no  swimmer — he  has  never 
learned  to  breast  the  billows  ;  yet,  with  the  first  breath 
he  draws,  he  begins  to  beat  the  water ;  with  violent 
efforts  he  attempts  to  shake  off  the  grasp  of  death,  and, 
by  the  play  of  limbs  and  arms,  to  keep  his  head  from 
Binkinoj.    His  struggles  may  only  exhaust  his  strength, 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  201 

and  sink  Lim  all  tlie  sooner,  nevertheless,  that  drown- 
ing wretcli  makes  instinctive  and  convulsive  efforts  to 
save  himself.  So,  when  first  brought  to  feel  that  we 
are  perishing — when  the  horrible  conviction  rushes 
into  our  mind  that  we  are  lost,  and  we  feel  ourselves 
oing  down  under  a  load  of  guilt  into  the  depths  of 
ATath,  our  first  effort,  also,  is  to  save  ourselves.  Like 
a  drowning  man,  who  clutches  at  straws  and  twigs, 
we  seize  on  any  thing,  however  worthless,  that  prom- 
ises salvation.  Thus,  alas !  many  toil  and  spend 
weary,  painful,  unprofitable  days  in  attempting  to  es- 
tablish a  righteousness  of  their  own,  and  to  find  in  the 
deeds  of  the  law  protection  from  its  curse. 

There  was  a  time,  no  doubt,  when  man  had  his 
fortunes  in  his  own  hand ;  but  that  time  is  gone 
— our  power  passed  away  with  our  purity.  Impo- 
tence has  followed  the  loss  of  innocence,  and  we  have 
nothing  now  left  us  but  a  wretched  pride.  Amid 
the  changes  which  this  world  presents,  I  have  seen 
a  man  who  had  known  better  days — who  had  been 
nursed  in  luxury,  and  reared  in  the  lap  of  fullness — 
outlive  his  fortune,  and  sink  into  the  baseness  and 
meanness  of  the  deepest  poverty.  It  seems  to  be  in 
such  circumstances  with  men  as  with  plants.  Natu- 
ralists say  that  it  is  much  more  difficult  to  get  a 
mountain  plant  to  accommodate  itself  to  a  low  locality, 
than  to  get  one,  which  by  birth  belongs  to  the  val- 
leys, to  live  and  thrive  at  a  lofty  elevation.  So,  there 
seems  nothing  more  difficult  to  men  than  to  descend 
gracefully,  and  for  those  who  have  been  accustomed 
to  a  high  position  in  society  to  reconcile  themselves 
to  a  humble  one.  And  thus  I  have  seen  such  an  one 
as  I  have  described,  when  he  had  lost  his  wealth,  re- 
tain in  his  vanity  what  he  should  first  have  parted 
9* 


202  THE    GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

with,  and  continue  proud  even  when  he  had  becomo 
poor.  So  is  it  with  us  in  our  low  and  lost  estate. 
Spiritually  poor,  we  are  spiritually  proud — saying,  "  I 
am  rich  and  increased  in  goods,  and  have  need  of  no- 
thing," while  we  are  "  wretched,  and  miserable,  and 
poor,  and  blind,  and  naked."  Even  when  we  are  in 
some  degree  sensible  of  our  poverty,  and  know  we 
can  not  pay,  we  are  yet  like  the  unjust  steward, 
ashamed  to  beg.  With  a  pride  that  assorts  ill  with 
the  rags  we  wear,  we  will  not  stoop  to  stand  at  God's 
door,  poor  mendicants,  who  ask  for  mercy.  We  will 
work  out  our  own  salvation — nor  be  beholden  to  an- 
other. ISTor,  sometimes,  if  not  always,  till  the  sinner 
learns,  by  prolonged  and  painful  trials,  that  he  cannot 
be  his  own  saviour,  does  this  proud  heart  of  ours  al- 
low us  to  stand  suppliants  at  the  gate  of  Mercy — our 
plea  for  pardon  not  our  own  merits, — nothing,  nothing 
whatever  but  Jesus'  merits  and  our  own  misery.  Yet 
thus  and  there  we  must  stand  if  we  would  be  saved. 
Jesus  is  the  Saviour  of  the  lost,  and  of  none  but 
the  lost. 

Now,  to  bring  us  down  to  this  conviction,  and  to 
draw  from  our  lips  the  cry,  "  Lord  save  me,  I  perish," 
God  in  mercy  often  leaves  those,  whom  he  calls,  to 
try  their  hand  at  working  out  their  own  salvation, 
and  of  the  rubbish  and  untempered  mortar  of  their 
own  works  and  vows  to  build  up  a  righteousness  of 
their  own.  They  toil  and  labor  at  the  Babel  tower 
— a  tower  to  reach  to  heaven.  It  rises  imposingly. 
It  grows  lofty,  and  looks  strong;  until  some  day, 
conscience  awakens,  and  there  follows  an  earthquake 
of  the  soul  which  shakes  it  to  its  foundation;  or 
some  sudden  gust  of  temptation  strikes  it,  and  lays 
the  labor  of  years  in  ruins  upon  the  ground.     This 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  203 

ruin  proves  their  redemption  :  for — first  step  in  a 
right  direction — they  at  least  come  to  feel,  that,  not- 
withstanding their  utmost  efforts  to  live  holilj,  holy 
they  are  not. 

God  deals  with  them  as  Jesus  did  on  Galilee  with 
Simon  Peter.  Impetuous,  self-satisfied,  puffed  up  with 
vanity,  Peter  will  walk  the  sea  to  show  off  his  power 
and  prove  his  superiority  to  the  other  disciples.  His 
Master  lets  him  try  it.  Jesus  bids  him  come  ;  not 
that  he  may  drown  Simon,  but  drown  Simon's  pride. 
Boldly  he  ventures  on  the  water.  He  begins  to  walk ; 
but,  alarmed  at  his  new  position  as  he  rises  and  falls 
with  the  swell  of  the  waves,  he  begins  to  fear,  and, 
like  a  cause  which  is  lost  for  want  of  courage,  he  be- 
gins to  sink — lower  and  lower  still  he  sinks,  till  the 
cold  water  rises  to  his  heart,  and  kisses  his  drowning 
lip.  Painful  but  profitable  lesson  !  His  danger  and 
failure  have  taught  him  his  weakness  ;  terror  masters 
shame,  and,  stretching  out  his  arms  to  Christ,  he  cries, 
"  Lord,  save  me,  I  perish."  Now,  to  this  state,  and 
this  very  confession,  all  who  are  to  be  saved  must  first 
be  brought.  "  I  perish,"  is  a  saving  word.  "  I  per- 
ish," like  the  cry  of  the  child  in  the  natal  chamber,  is 
the  first  utterance  of  a  new  existence.  He  who  raises 
his  eyes  to  heaven  to  cry,  "I  perish,"  "Lord,  save 
me,  I.  perish,"  has  planted  his  foot  on  the  first  round 
of  the  ladder  that  raises  man  from  earth  to  heaven. 
Have  you  got  your  foot  there?  from  lips  pale  with 
terror,  have  you  ever  cried  "Lord,  save  me,  I  perish." 

This  confession  and  this  petition  will,  sooner  oi 
later,  rise  to  God  from  every  man,  who,  through  the 
influence  of  God's  grace  and  spirit,  is  intelligently, 
seriously,  resolutely,  bent  on  salvation.  We  say  so, 
because  no  man  ever  yet  tried  to  live  without  sinning 


204  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

and  succeeded.  Who  that  ever  tried  it  has  not  failed  ? 
Who  has  not  found,  that  it  were  as  easy  for  a  man  of 
mortal  mold  and  weight  to  walk  the  water,  as  to  walk 
this  world  one  day  without  sin?  Oh,  has  not  He  who 
is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day,  reason  to  be 
angry  every  day  with  the  best  of  us?  "In  man}^ 
things  we  offend." 

Imagine  not  by  your  vows,  and  engagements,  and 
promises,  and  resolutions,  to  restrain  the  corruption  of 
your  nature — to  bind  the  limbs  of  "the  old  mon." 
That  "  old  man,"  although  old,  is  ever  young.  To 
him  age  brings  no  infirmities.  He  grows  in  strength 
with  increase  of  years.  Vulnerable  to  no  weapon  but 
the  "Sword  of  the  Spirit,"  and,  entrenched  within 
your  heart,  he  is  imm.ortal  till  you  pierce  him  there. 
This  terrible  "  old  man"  laughs  at  your  strongt^st 
bonds,  and  snaps  them  on  his  giant  arms,  as  Samson 
in  the  days  of  old  the  green  withes  of  the  Philistines. 

Time  is  precious,  and  you  waste  it  in  attempting  to 
work  out  a  righteousness  of  your  own.  In  you  I  see 
a  negro,  black  and  tawny,  seated  by  a  running  stream, 
a  laughing  stock  to  some,  an  object  of  pity  to  others, 
who  labors  and  toils  to  wash  himself  white,  and  re- 
move the  dark  pigment  of  his  skin.  Rise  up,  throw 
soap  and  nitre  into  the  stream,  and,  turning  your  back 
on  these,  go,  seek  the  blood  that  cleanseth  from  all  sin. 
Are  you  engaged  in  the  attempt  to  work  out  a  right- 
eousness of  your  own  ?  Leave  that  loom.  Are  the 
gossamer  threads  of  your  own  vows  and  promises  ever 
snapping  in  your  hand,  and  breaking  at  every  throw 
of  the  shuttle  ?  The  robe  of  righteousness,  a  raiment 
meet  for  thy  soul,  and  approved  of  by  Grod,  was  never 
woven  there.     It  was  wrought  upon   the  cross ;  and, 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  205 

of  color  more  enduring  than  Tyrian  purple,  it  is  dyed 
red  in  the  blood  of  Calvary. 

Come  away,  and  come  to  Jesus.  Come  as  you  are. 
There  is  neither  time  nor  need  for  dela}^  Imagine 
not  that  you  have  to  do  what  Joseph  did  before  he 
was  ushered  into  Pharaoh's  presence.  The  Hebrew 
lies  immured  in  a  foul  and  lonely  dungeon,  when  to 
a  thundering  at  the  gate,  and  the  cry  of  "  a  message 
from  the  palace!"  the  ponderous  bolts  are  drawn. 
The  door  is  thrown  open,  and,  guided  by  the  jailer, 
the  royal  messengers  hurry  along  the  dreary  passages 
and  enter  Joseph's  dungeon.  Pale,  sad,  disconsolate, 
far  from  his  father  and  a  father's  love,  a  slave,  a  cap- 
tive, neglected  in  dress  and  person,  the  Hebrew  lies 
before  them.  They  strike  the  fetters  from  his  limbs, 
and  hurry  him  off,  for  Pharaoh  with  royal  impatience 
frets  and  grieves  till  his  dream  is  read  ;  and  yet,  with 
all  their  haste,  Joseph  is  not  ushered  into  the  presence 
of  royalty  till  the  marks  of  the  prison  are  removed, 
and  in  attire  and  appearance  he  is  made  like  one  who 
is  fit  to  walk  the  floor  of  a  palace,  and  stand  before  a 
king.  We  are  told  that  "  he  shaved  himself,  and 
changed  his  raiment,  and  came  in  unto  Pharaoh." 
I  have  to  tell  the  sinner  that,  although  he  lies  in  a 
deeper  and  darker  dungeon,  although  he  is  covered 
with  fouler  and  filthier  rags,  and  although  the  pres- 
ence of  Jesus  is  infinitely  more  august,  and  venerable, 
and  exalted,  than  that  of  any  mortal  king,  he  stands 
in  no  need  of  preparatory  holiness,  of  even  one  short 
hour's  delay.  You  have  neither  to  change  a  rag,  nor 
remove  a  stain.  He  is  ready  to  receive  you  as  you 
are.  Come  then  as  you  are.  Here,  this  hour,  the 
bridegroom  stands  by  the  marriage  altar.     Tt  is  not 


206  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

your  wealtli  nor  your  beauty  which  has  won  his  heart. 
He  loves  you  ;  he  has  shed  his  blood  to  wash  you  ;  at 
great  cost  he  has  purchased  the  wedding  garment,  a 
robe  of  righteousness,  and  the  crown  of  glory.  The  ro- 
mance which  relates  how  a  peasant  maid  was  united 
to  a  great  prince,  and  the  turn  in  fortune's  wheel  which 
gave  the  honors  of  a  queen  to  some  female  slave  ; 
these  but  dimly  shadow  what  thy  fate  might  be. 
Why,  when  Christ  seeks  you,  should  you  hang  back  ? 
He  is  ready  to  espouse  you  to  himself  in  the  marriage 
bonds  of  an  eternal  covenant — "  The  mountains  shall 
depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed,  but  my  kindness 
shall  not  depart,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my 
peace  be  removed,  saith  the  Lord  that  hath  mercy 
on  thee." 


llaii  iHstifi^Ir 


THROUGH  THE  RIGHTEOUSNESS   OF  JESUS   CH1I3T. 


rben  "will  I  sprinkle  clean  "water  upon  you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean. 

EzEKiEL  x.ixvi.  25. 


The  dinner  was  to  prepare,  the  rooms  were  to  be 
made  ready,  there  were  servants  to  direct,  and  guests 
to  accommodate ;  there  was  the  character  of  the  house 
to  maintain,  and  its  whole  machinery  to  keep  oiled 
and  in  good  working  order — with  these  things  Martha 
was  busy.  Not  only  busy,  but,  like  many  others,  she 
was  so  intently  engrossed  with  household  cares,  that, 
in  a  tone  which  had  the  sound  of  a  gentle  rebuke,  our 
Lord  said,  "  Martha,  thou  art  cumbered  about  many 
things ;  but  one  thing  is  needful."  That  observation 
applies  as  much  to  men  as  to  women ;  more  so,  per- 
haps. 

Furnished  with  clasping  tendrils,  and  strong  by  the 
attachments  which  they  form,  the  woodbine  and  ivy 
wind  their  arms  round  the  tree,  embrace  it  closely, 
and  rising  to  its  lofty  boughs,  and  clinging  to  its  rough 
bark,  they  give  ornament  and  beauty — a  vesture  of 
soft  green  spangled  with  flowers — in  return  for  the 
support  they  get.  Like  these,  woman,  with  her  strong 
and  warm  affections — gentle,  loving,  confiding — is 
prone  to  attach  herself  to  a  nature  stronger  than  her 
own,  and  to  lean  on  it  for  support.  And,  whether  it 
be  that  she  is  from  this,  peculiar  disposition  less  op 


208  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL 

posed  to  the  faith  which  looks  to  another's  righteous* 
ness  and  leans  on  another's  strength,  certain  it  is  there 
is  more  religion  among  women  than  men.  If,  on  ac- 
count of  the  elevation  and  high  position  which  it  has 
given  her  in  Christian  countries,  woman  owes  most  to 
religion,  religion  in  turn  owes  most  to  her.  You  tell 
me  that  ''  by  woman  came  sin  ?"  I  know  it ;  but  I 
set  off  this  against  the  fact — by  woman  came  the 
Saviour.  Jesus  was  a  virgin's  child.  And,  more 
than  that,  in  those  days  when  he  walked  this  world, 
women  were  his  trustiest,  kindest  friends.  Whoever 
betrayed,  denied,  deserted  him — they  never  did.  The 
nearest  to  his  cross,  and  earliest  at  his  sepulcher,  they 
were  faithful  when  others  were  faithless,  and  gave 
early  promise  of  that  devotedness  to  his  cause,  which 
their  sex  in  all  ages  have  honorably  and  pre-eminently 
displayed.  Go  through  our  Christian  households,  and 
I  will  venture  to  say,  that  you  will  find  more  women 
than  men,  more  wives  than  husbands,  more  sisters 
than  brothers,  who  are  living  under  the  influence  of 
religion.  Many  more  children  are  to  be  found,  who 
refer  their  earliest,  deepest  religious  impressions  to  a 
mother's  than  to  a  father's  piety. 

But,  be  we  men  or  women,  "  One  thing  is  needful." 
Yet  how  sad  and  strange  it  is,  that  this  one  needful 
thing,  which,  for  that  very  reason,  should  be  the  most, 
is  often  the  least  sought  after ;  which,  for  that  very 
reason,  should  be  the  first,  is  often  the  last  sought 
after ;  and  sometimes,  alas !  never  sought  after  at  all. 
It  is  the  brightest  feature  in  man's  sad  and  sinful  lot, 
that  while  amid  the  business  and  anxieties,  and  toils, 
and  cares,  and  keen  competitions  of  a  world,  which 
has  so  many  blanks  and  so  few  prizes,  there  is,  after 
all,  but  one  thing  needful.     And  especially  blessed  is 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  209 

't,  that  the  only  tiling  we  really  need  is  the  only  thing 
we  are  sure  to  get.  Sought  in  sincerit}^,  it  was  nsvei 
sought  in  vain.  Other  gifts  may  be  asked  and  re- 
fused ;  but  it  is  true  of  this  as  of  nothing  else  what 
ever,  "  Ask  and  je  shall  receive,  seek  and  ye  shah 
jBnd,  knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  to  you." 

Need  I  say  that  the  one  thing  needful  is  salvation— 
that  it  must  be  that — can  be  nothing  else  than  that 
To  a  man,  the  conscious  possessor  of  a  never-dying 
soul,  who  is  burdened  with  a  heavy  load  of  guilt,  and 
who,  in  an  eternity  which  he  is  nearing  every  hour, 
descries  a  throne  of  rigid  and  righteous  judgment,  Oh, 
what  has  this  wide  world  to  offer  comparable  to  sal- 
vation ?  What  profit  would  it  be  to  me,  though  I 
gained  it  all,  if  I  lost  my  soul  ?  All  those  other  things 
which  we  seek,  all  that  we  toil  and  travail  for,  all  for 
which  we  daily  fret  and  vex  ourselves,  nay,  all  foi 
which  some  are  fools  enough  to  barter  away  their  souls, 
compared  to  this  are  but  mere  spangles  and  tinsel, 
dross  and  dust — bubbles  colored  with  rainbow  huesi 
that  break  at  a  touch,  and,  bursting,  smart  the  eyes 
of  the  child  who  blows  them.  When  a  man  lies 
stretched  out  on  a  bed  of  death,  ah !  he  sees  objects 
then  in  their  due  proportions.  From  that  point  of 
view  the  highest  objects  of  earthly  ambition,  the  loftiest 
pinnacles  of  wealth,  of  power,  of  fame,  dwindle  down 
into  littleness,  and  look  as  far  beneath  salvation  as  the 
loftiest  Alp  beneath  the  sun.  Yet,  strange  to  tell — 
mcredible,  did  we  not  know  it  to  be  true — many,  as 
if  there  was  neither  God  in  heaven,  nor  fire  in  hell, 
nor  soul  in  man,  feel  no  anxiety  about  the  matter. 
They  live  and  die  like  the  beasts  that  perish.  Is  it 
otherwise  with  you  ?  Anxious  about  what  alone  is 
worth  your  anxiety,  are  you  pressing  on  the  preacher 


210  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

the  jailer's  question,  "Oh,  sir,  what  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  ?" 

That  great  question — the  greatest  of  all  questions- 
is  one  which  admits  oi"  a  very  short  and  intelligible 
answer.  Capable  of  being  much  expanded,  it  can  yet 
be  brought  within  a  very  narrow  compass.  The  river, 
which  there  flows  between  distant  banks,  and  yonder 
expands  itself  out  into  a  lake,  reflecting  on  its  mirror- 
face  the  bright  heavens  above  and  the  dark  hills 
around,  is  here  brought — where  its  foaming  waters 
flash  past,  loud  as  thunder,  and  quick  as  lightning,  oi 
creep  sullenly  along  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 
dark  gorge — within  narrow  bounds ;  bounds  so  narrow, 
that  with  nerve  enough,  by  one  brave  leap  from  rock 
to  rock,  I  could  clear  its  breadth.  Even  so  all  the 
wide  expanse  of  doctrines  to  be  believed,  and  duties 
to  be  done,  which  might  be  expatiated  over  in  reply  to 
the  question.  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?  is  con- 
tracted, compressed,  comprehended  in  the  Apostle's 
brief  speech,  "  Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved."  Bring  out  from  the  dust  of  six 
thousand  years  the  old  covenant  of  Eden,  and  on  that 
soiled  and  torn  banner,  you  read  the  fading  motto, 
**  Do  and  live."  But  what  read  we  on  the  folds  of  this 
banner,  which,  defiant  of  hell  and  the  world,  waves 
above  Calvary,  and  under  which  believers  march  to 
crowns  and  victory?  The  eye  of  a  sinner's  hope 
kindles  at  the  sight  of  another  and  better  motto ;  for 
there,  inscribed  in  the  blood  of  Jesus,  like  red  letters 
on  a  snow-white  ground,  we  read,  "Believe  and  live." 
Salvation  is  the  one  thing  needful  for  man,  and  faith 
is  the  one  thing  needful  for  salvation. 

Like  other  things,  however,  that  are  one  in  the  ag- 
gregate, this  one  thing  consists  of  many  parts.     My 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  211 

hand,  for  instance,  is  one,  yet  it  has  five  fingers.  This 
body  is  one,  yet  it  has  many  organs.  The  Nile  or 
Ganges  is  one  river,  but  one  which  is  fed  by  many 
tributaries,  and  disgorges  its  waters  into  the  sea  by 
the  channels  of  many  mouths.  A  tree  is  one  vegeta- 
ble form,  but  one  that  has  many  roots  below,  and 
many  branches  above ;  and  even  so,  to  leave  the  other 
figures,  and  select  the  last,  is  that  "  Tree  of  Life," 
which  has  Christ  for  its  root,  and  for  its  fruit  holi- 
ness and  heaven.  I  have  seen  a  tree  which,  after 
rising  in  a  single  stem,  divided  itself  into  two  great 
boughs,  which,  stretched  out  to  the  air  and  light,  and 
dews  and  heat,  were  afterwards  divided  and  subdi- 
vided into  innumerable  branches.  So  with  redemp- 
tion. The  subject  presents  itself  to  our  eye  under 
two  grand  divisions.  First,  the  remission  or  pardon 
of  sin ;  and  secondly,  the  renovation  of  the  soul. 
While  salvation  is  the  one  thing  needful,  the  two  things 
needful  to  it  are  sin  pardoned  and  the  soul  renewed. 
For,  suppose  that  your  sins  were  pardoned,  but  that 
your  heart  remained  in  its  corruption,  the  door  of 
heaven  remains  shut;  because,  "Without  holiness 
no  man  shall  see  the  Lord."  Then,  again,  although 
your  hearts  were  renewed,  unless  your  sins  also  were 
pardoned,  that  door  stands  shut ;  because  of  the  sen- 
tence, ''The  soul  that  sinneth  shall  die."  The  door 
of  heaven,  like  that  of  some  treasure-chest  or  gate  of 
citadel,  guarded  with  jealous  care,  is  thus  barred  by 
two  strong  bolts;  "There  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into 
it  any  thing  that  defileth,  neither  whatsoever  worketh 
abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie;  but  they  which  are 
written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life."  Both  bolts  must 
be  drawn  before  w^e  can  enter ;  we  must  be  pardoned 
as  well  as  renewed,  and  renewed  as  well  as  pardoned. 


212  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Leaving  the  renovation  of  the  soul  to  be  afterwards 
considered,  I  resume  my  observations  on  the  pardon 
of  sin,  and  justification  of  the  sinner,  as  expressed  and 
promised  in  these  words :  "I  will  sprinkle  clean  water 
upon  you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean."  Having  endeavored 
to  prove,  first,  that  God's  people  are  not  chosen  be- 
cause they  are  holy,  but  that  they  may  become  so ; 
and,  secondly,  that  man  does  not  justify  himself,  but 
is  justified  by  God,  I  now  remark — 

III.  That  we  are  not  justified  or  cleansed  from  the 
guilt  of  sin  through  the  administration  or  efficacy  ot 
any  outward  ordinance.  "  I  will  sprinkle  clean  v/ater 
upon  you,  and  you  shall  be  clean." 

ISTow,  since  the  cleansing  is  accomplished  through 
the  application  of  water — and  water  sprinkled — surely, 
some  may  say,  this  refers  to  baptism.  The  element 
used  in  that  ordinance  is  water,  and  the  common 
method  of  using  it  is  by  sprinkling.  And  seeing  that 
God  says,  "  I  will  sprinkle  clean  water  upon  you,  and 
ye  shall  be  clean;"  and  by  that,  certainly,  means  that 
he  will  cleanse  his  people  from  sin ;  and  seeing  that 
he  thus  appears  to  connect  the  forgiveness  of  sin  with 
the  sprinkling  of  water,  is  there  not  something — if  not 
much — in  these  words,  favorable  to  the  views  of  those 
who  maintain  that  baptism,  when  duly  administered, 
removes  original  sin,  and  confers  on  its  recipients  the 
grace  of  regeneration  ?  No  ;  nothing  of  the  kind,  as 
we  shall  prove. 

Three  hundred  years  ago,  our  church,  with  an  open 
Bible  on  her  banner,  and  this  motto,  "  Search  the 
Scriptures,"  on  its  scroll,  marched  out  from  the  gates 
of  Eome.  Did  they  come  clean  out  of  Babylon  ?  Ex- 
perience shows,  that  it  is  much  easier  to  leave  our 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  218 

motlier  country  than  drop  our  mother  tongue.  Across 
the  seas  which  they  sail,  and  to  the  lands  which  they 
settle  on,  the  emigrants  carry  their  prejudices,  passions, 
and  even  superstitions.  They  people  the  glens  and 
valleys  of  the  new  world  with  the  fairies  that  dance 
on  the  green,  and  the  specters  that  walk  by  night 
among  the  haunted  ruins  of  the  old  country.  So  I 
fear  that,  on  departing  from  the  Church  of  Eome,  we 
carried  into  our  Protestantism — as  was  not  unnatural 
— some  of  her  ancient  superstitions  ;  just  as  our  fa- 
thers carried  into  their  practice  some  of  her  intolerant 
principles.  We  can  not  approve  of  their  intolerance,  yet 
it  admits  of  an  apology.  They  had  been  suckled  by 
the  wolf;  and  it  was  no  great  wonder  that,  with  the 
milk  of  the  wolf,  they  should  have  imbibed  something 
of  her  nature. 

It  is  not  the  privilege  and  happiness  of  man  to  pass 
through  his  changes  like  the  Saviour.  When  Jesus 
rose,  a  conqueror  from  the  grave,  he  left  the  dead- 
clothes  behind  him  ;  but  look  at  this  apparition,  from 
which  sisters  and  friends  shrink  back.  Some  scream 
with  terror,  and  all  afraid  to  touch  him,  they  leave 
him  to  stand  in  the  dark  mouth  of  his  grave,  till  the 
word  is  given,  "  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go."  Lazarus 
comes  forth  alive,  but  he  is  bound  hand  and  foot ;  he 
leaves  the  sepulcher,  but  with  his  grave-clothes  on. 
And  prone,  as  we  of  Scotland  are,  to  boast  that  our 
fathers,  with  Knox  at  their  head,  came  forth  from 
Rome  with  less  of  her  old  superstitions  about  them 
than  most  other  churches,  to  what  else  than  some 
lingering  remains  of  popery  can  we  ascribe  the  ex- 
treme anxiety  which  some  parents  show  to  have  bap- 
tism administered  to  a  dying  child  ?  Does  not  this  look 


214  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

very  like  a  rag  of  the  old  faitli  ?  It  smells  of  the 
sepulcher. 

Summoned  once,  and  in  haste,  to  the  dying  bed  of 
a  mother,  who  was  anxious  to  see  her  child  baptized 
ere  she  herself  expired,  I  found  that  with  her  I  could 
sympathize.  The  last  act  of  sinking  life — the  last 
effort  of  her  throbbing  heart — was  to  give  her  infant 
to  God.  With  her  dying  arms  she  laid  the  new-born 
lamb  on  the  Shepherd's  bosom,  and  as  the  babe  slept, 
unconscious  of  the  affecting  scene,  it  received  a  double 
baptism.  Ere  the  water  was  sprinkled  by  our  hands 
on  its  face,  the  mother  had  breathed  her  last.  She 
left  the  babe  motherless,  to  be  baptized  by  the  water 
that  fell  from  our  agitated  hand  and  by  the  big  bitter 
tears  that  rolled  down  on  its  sweet  face  from  a  father's 
cheeks.  There  was  sorrow — bitter  sorrow  there  ;  be- 
side that  dead  mother  deep  solemnity,  but  no  super- 
stition ;  and  if  there  was  a  mother's  weakness  in  the 
wish,  it  was  one  which  we  felt  it  no  sin  to  sympathize 
with  and  comply  with.  But  sympathize  with  those 
we  can  not,  who,  when  death  has  stamped  his  seal  on 
an  infant's  brow,  hurry  off  for  a  minister  that  he  maj? 
baptize  the  dying.  I  cannot  believe  that  there  is  anj 
virtue  in  water  to  save  its  soul.  I  recoil  with  horroi 
from  the  thought  that  a  God  of  mercy  would  suspend 
its  salvation  on  a  mere  outward  ordinance.  Is  there 
not  reason  to  suspect  that  at  the  root  of  this  anxious 
and  "unnecessary  haste,  there  lies  some  lurking  feeling 
that  baptism — if  not  essential — is  at  least  serviceable 
to  salvation,  and  has  some  connection,  near  or  remote, 
with  regeneration  and  the  remission  of  sins? 

Kow,  with  all  respect  and  due  regard  to  the  feelings 
of  others,  so  far  as  they  are  conscientious,  we  can  not 
look  upon  such  notions  as  else  than  the  rags  of  an  old 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  215 

superstition.  We  acknowledge  no  authority  in  these 
matters  but  the  word  of  God.  And  there  I  can  see 
no  foundation  for  the  idea,  that  baptism  and  salvation 
— baptism  an-d  regeneration — are  necessarily  linked 
together,  or  are  in  any  respect  inseparably  connected. 
Were  it  so,  baptism  were  the  highest,  holiest  ordinance 
in  the  universe  of  God.  Had  it  been  so,  it  is  not  rea- 
sonable to  suppose  that  our  Lord  would  have  left  a 
rite  of  such  transcendent  importance  to  be  administered 
in  every  case  by  inferiors — by  the  hands  of  his  ser- 
vants. Were  baptism  thus  identified  with  regenera- 
tion and  the  "new  creature,"  would  the  Apostle  Paul, 
who  gloried  in  preaching,  have  spoken  of  it  as  an 
inferior  ordinance  ?  He  declared  with  manifest  satis- 
faction that  he  had  not  been  sent  to  baptize  but  to 
preach;  and,  leaving  the  administration  of  the  rite  to 
his  inferiors,  he  even  thanked  God  that  he  had  bap- 
tized none  of  them.  Then,  do  the  cases,  for  instance, 
of  Simon  Magus  and  the  Ethiopian  give  any  sanction 
to  this  theory  of  baptismal  power?     Assuredly  not. 

Look  at  Simon  Magus !  He  was  baptized  by  apos- 
tolic hands ;  and  in  his  case  the  ordinance,  beyond  all 
doubt  and  controversy,  was  duly  administered.  Does 
his  conduct  warrant  us  to  believe  that  his  sins  were 
pardoned,  or  his  heart  renewed  ?  By  no  means.  On 
the  contrary,  this  man  is  declared,  on  apostolic  autho- 
rity— by  the  voice  of  Simon  Peter  himself,  to  be  still, 
although  baptized  by  that  Apostle's  hands,  "In  the 
gall  of  bitterness  and  the  bond  of  iniquity."  Shocked 
to  find  a  baptized  man,  offering  with  money  to  buy 
the  Holy  Ghost,  Peter,  bursting  with  indignation,  said, 
"Thy  money  perish  with  thee,  because  thou  hast 
thought  that  the  gift  of  God  may  be  purchased  with 
money.   Thou  hast  neither  part  nor  lot  in  this  matter; 


216  THE   GOSPEL   IX   EZEKIEL. 

for  tby  heart  is  not  right  in  the  sight  of  God.  Kepent, 
therefore,  of  this  thy  wickedness,  and  pray  God  if 
perhaps  the  thought  of  thine  heart  may  be  forgiver 
thee,  for  I  perceive  that  thou  art  in  the  gall  of  bitter 
ness  and  the  bond  of  iniquity."  Surely  it  is  much 
more  reasonable  to  believe  that  Simon  Magus,  al 
though  baptized,  was  not  regenerated,  than  to  believe 
that  an  inspired  Apostle  would  speak  in  such  terms  of 
a  regenerate  man.  How  could  he  be  regenerate 
when  we  hear  heaven  itself  pronouncing  him  by  the 
lips  of  its  messenger  to  be  still  "  in  the  gall  of  bitter- 
ness and  bond  of  iniquity." 

Look  next  at  the  Ethiopian  eunuch.  Was  he  not 
ho2:)tized  and  regenerate  ?  True  ;  but  observe  that  that 
order  should  be  reversed ;  he  was  regenerate  and  hap- 
tizcd — regenerate  before  he  was  baptized — not  born 
again  in  his  baptism,  but  born  again  before  it.  Why 
did  Philip  baptize  him  ?  lie  granted  him  baptism, 
because  he  believed  with  all  his  heart.  But  can  a 
man  believe  till  he  is  renewed  !  In  other  words,  can 
a  dead  man  move,  or  cry,  or  wish,  or  w^alk?  This 
stifled  shriek,  this  awful  sound  within  the  coffin,  these 
struggles  to  force  up  the  lid  and  throw  off  the  cere- 
ments, prove  that  the  dead  has  come  to  life — that  he 
has  passed  "  from  death  to  life."  And  did  not  the 
Ethiopian  give  proof  of  spiritual  life  previous  to  his 
baptism?  Ere  he  had  left  the  chariot,  ere  his  feet 
had  been  dipped  in  the  stream,  ere  one  drop  of  its 
water  had  fallen  on  his  bended  head,  the  Spirit  of  the 
living  God  had  fallen  on  his  heart.  Hear  the  narra- 
tive:— "And,  as  they  w^ent  on  their  way,  they  came 
unto  a  certain  water;  and  the  eunuch  said.  See,  here 
IB  water ;  what  doth  hinder  me  to  be  baptized  ?  and 
Philip  said,  If  thou  believest  with  all  thine  heart,  thou 


MAX   JUSTIFIED.  217 

mnyest."  And  he  answered  and  said,  "  I  believe  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God."  These  cases  are  not 
reconcilable  with  the  notion  that  baptism  has  any 
necessary  connection  with  the  forgiveness  of  sin,  and 
the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  They  prove  that 
baptism  and  regeneration  do  not,  and  can  not  stand  to 
each  other  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  Othc  - 
wise,  the  case  of  the  Ethiopian  were  an  illustration  of 
what  the  world  never  saw — would  be  an  example  of 
wliat  were  a  contradiction  and  an  absurdity — of  some- 
thing for  more  wonderful  than  a  miracle — of  such  an 
impossibility  as  a  son  older  than  his  father,  or  as  a 
thunder  peal  that  preceded  the  flash  in  which  it  origi 
nated — of.  in  short,  an  effect  in  the  order  of  time  pre 
ceding  its  own  cause. 

Besides,  does  not  the  sad  and  melancholy  history, 
alas!  of  thousands  prove  that  the  outwarJ  ordinance 
is  often  administered  without  any  corresponding  ad- 
ministration of  renewing  grace?  The  altar  and  the 
offering  are  there,  but  no  fire  descends  from  heaven 
on  the  sacrifice.  Grant  that  in  our  case,  and  in  that 
of  any  other  such  church  as  ours,  the  cause  of  the 
failure  is  to  be  found  in  our  lack  of  apostolic  suc- 
cession *,  grant  that  in  our  case  the  water,  if  not  actu- 
ally polluted  by  unconsecrated  hands,  is  deprived  of 
all  its  virtue  by  the  channel  through  which  it  flows; 
grant  that  we  have  no  commission  to  baptize,  and 
that  therefore  what  we  do  in  such  holy  offices  is  null 
and  void;  grant  the  relevancy  of  all  these  allegations 
(each  and  all  of  which  we  deny) — is  it  not  an  undeni- 
able and  melancholy  fact,  that  the  lives  of  persons  in 
all  churches — even  of  the  most  transcendental  in  their 
claims — demonstrate  that  many  are  baptized  witli 
water  who  have  never  been  baptized  with  the  Holy 

10 


218  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

Ghost.  The  question,  therefore,  that  we  would  urge 
on  your  most  serious  consideration,  does  not  concern 
the  sign,  but  the  thing  signified.  If  you  have  got  the 
living  element,  I  care  little,  or,  rather,  nothing, 
through  what  church,  or  by  what  channel  it  may 
flow.  Have  you  got  the  grace  of  God  ?  In  the 
words  of  an  apostle,  "Have  ye  received  the  Iloly 
Ghost?" 

TV.  We  are  justified,  or  cleansed  from  the  guilt  ol 
sin  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  "Without  the  shedding 
of  blood  there  is  no  remission  ;"  and  none  we  ma}^ 
add,  without  its  application. 

Where  do  we  find  this  doctrine  in  the  text?  By 
what  process  of  spiritual  chemistry  can  this  truth  be 
extracted  from  it?  There  is  water,  and  clean  water, 
and  sprinkling  of  water,  it  may  be  said,  but  no  word 
of  blood  ;  there  is  neither  sign  nor  spot  of  blood  upon 
the  page.  True;  so  it  looks  at  first  sight;  but 
without  the  hand  of  Moses  we  shall  see  this  water 
turned  into  blood.  It  may  appear  difficult,  without 
Moses'  rod,  to  repeat  the  minicle  of  Egypt;  yet 
this  is  plain,  that  here,  as  elsewhere,  water  is  but  the 
sign  of  spiritual  blessings.  And  a  most  expressive 
symbol  we  shall  find  it,  if  we  but  think  of  the  impor- 
tant part  that  this  element  plays  in  the  economy 
of  nature.  It  covers  more  than  two  thirds  of  the  en- 
tire globe;  it  is  universally  diffused  through  the  am- 
bient air;  by  the  clouds  it  forms  it  tempers  the 
force  of  a  fiery  sun ;  it  drapes  the  heavens  with  cur- 
tains of  the  most  gorgeous  colors,  dyed  in  tlie  rosy 
tints  of  morn,  or  in  evening's  golden  hues;  and  it  fills 
the  floating  reservoirs  of  the  sk}^,  to  descend,  when 
burst  by  lightning,  or  breaking  by  their  own  weight,  in 


MAN    JUSTIFIED.  219 

refreshing  showers  on  the  thirsty  ground.  The  cir- 
culation of  water  is  to  the  world  what  that  of  blood  is 
to  the  body,  and  that  of  grace  to  the  souJ.  It  is  its 
life.  Withdraw  it,  and  all  that  lives  would  die ;  for- 
ests, fields,  beasts,  man  himself  would  die.  This  world 
would  become  one  vast  grave.  Water  constitutes  as 
much  the  life  as  the  beauty  of  the  landscape.  It  is 
true  both  in  a  spiritual  and  in  an  earthly  sense,  that 
the  world  lives  because  heaven  weeps  over  it.  It  was 
Clirist's  choicest  figure  of  himself,  when,  turning  on  his 
own  person  the  eyes  of  thousands,  as  on  a  perennial 
fountain — one  never  sealed  by  winter's  frost,  nor  dried 
by  summer  suns — free,  full,  patent  to  all,  he  stood  up 
on  the  last  and  great  day  of  the  feast,  and  cried,  "  If 
any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink." 
And  in  case  any  of  you  should  be  thirsting  for  eternal 
life,  let  me  say,  that  thus  Jesus  now  addresses  us. 
Would  God,  he  were  as  precious  to  us  as  water  in  the 
sight  of  him  who  is  dying  of  thirst  I  With  blood-shot 
e3^es,  his  throat  black  as  coal,  his  tongue  cleaving  to 
the  roof  of  his  mouth,  the  desert  reeling  round  him, 
Oh !  what  will  the  traveler  not  give  for  one  cup  of 
water?  Fill  it. with  water,  he  will  give  it  back  tc 
you  filled,  twice,  ten  times  over  with  gold.  Would 
to  God  that  our  thirst  for  Jesus  Christ  were  as  ardent ; 
that  in  like  manner  He  were  all  our  salvation,  and  all 
our  desire. 

The  property  of  water,  however,  to  which  reference 
is  made  here,  is  a  different  one  from  any  of  these.  It 
is  not  the  property  by  which  it  sustains  or  revives 
life,  yet  it  is  one  for  which  this  element  is  as  well 
known,  and  as  universally  used.  All  the  world 
wash  with  water,  as  well  as  drink  water ;  and  the 
reference  here  is  to  that  solyent  power,  by  virtue  of 


220  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

which  water  dissolves  impurities — turning  white  what 
is  black,  and  cleansing  whatever  is  foul.  It  stands 
here,  therefore,  the  figure  of  that  which  cleanses. 
The  object  to  be  cleansed  is  the  soul ;  the  defilement 
to  be  cleansed  away  is  sin  ;  and  we  now,  therefore, 
address  ourselves  to  the  all-important  question — Of 
what  is  this  water  the  figure  ?  The  key  to  the  ques- 
tion lies  in  the  epithet  clean  water.  Let  us  analyse 
this  water.  It  is  not  water  in  the  state  in  which  it 
descends  from  the  skies,  or  flows  in  rivers,  or  may  be 
drawn  from  a  common  well ;  for,  observe,  it  is  not 
said,  then  will  I  sprinkle  water,  but  '■^  clean  water  on 
you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean."  The  water  is  such  as  the 
Jews  understood  by  clean  water — not  free  from  im- 
purity, and  in  itself  clean,  but  water  that  maketh 
clean — in  the  words  of  the  ceremonial  law,  "  water  of 
purifying."  This  was  prepared  according  to  a  divinely 
appointed  ritual.  Look  how  it  was  prepared,  and  you 
shall  see  it  reddening  and  changing  into  blood. 

Gathering  the  lowing  herds  from  their  different  pas- 
tures, they  sought  up  and  down  among  them,  till  a  red 
heifer  was  found — red  from  horn  to  hoof,  and  mottled 
by  no  other  color — one  all  red,  and  on  whose  free 
neck  yoke  had  never  been.  Separated  from  the  herd, 
she  is  led  by  priestly  procession,  accompanied  by  the 
people  outside  the  camp  ;  and  there,  struck  by  a  mor- 
tal blow,  she  falls  under  the  hands  of  the  priest.  As 
the  blood  gushes  to  the  knife,  he  catches  it  in  his 
hand,  and  seven  times  casts  it  in  a  bloody  shower  to- 
wards the  tabernacle.  So  soon  as  the  victim  is  dead, 
it  is  heaved  on  the  burning  pile,  and,  while  the  smoke 
of  the  sacrifice  floats  away  to  heaven,  horn  and  hoof, 
skin,  flesh,  and  bone,  are  all  reduced  to  ashes.  These 
ashes,  carefully  collected,  are  mixed  with  pure  water 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  221 

in  a  pure  vessel — and  that  water  is  the  clean  water  of 
my  text.  See  now  how  plainly — when  understood 
aright — this  expression  refers  to  a  vicarious  sacrifice, 
and  the  merits  of  an  atoning  death.  What  was  that 
heifer?  Spotless  and  separated  from  the  herd,  she  is 
a  type  of  Him  who  was  without  spot  or  blemish,  holy, 
harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from  sinners.  With 
neck  on  which  yoke  had  never  lain,  she  is  a  type  oi 
Him,  who  said,  "  The  prince  of  this  world  cometh, 
and  he  hath  nothing  in  me."  Eed  in  color,  she  is  a 
type  of  Him,  whose  feet  were  dipped  in  the  blood  ol 
his  enemies,  and,  as  seen  coming  from  Bozrah,  was 
"  red  in  his  apparel,  traveling  in  the  greatness  of  his 
might."  And  what  is  this  public  procession,  which 
conducts  the  heifer  without  the  camp,  but  a  figure  of 
the  march  to  Calvary?  And  what  is  her  bloody 
death,  but  a  type  of  that  which  Jesus  suffered  amid 
the  agonies  of  the  cross?  And  what  are  these  fires 
that  burn  so  fiercely,  and  consume  the  victim,  but  a 
faint  image  of  the  wrath  of  God,  under  which  his  soul 
was  "  withered  like  grass?"  And  what  was  the  water 
mingled  with  this  heifer's  ashes,  but  a  type  of  the 
righteousness,  which,  imputed  and  applied  to  sinners, 
makes  sinners  just?  For,  as  the  Jew  on  whom  that 
water  was  sprinkled  became  ceremonially  clean,  so 
guilt  of  original  and  actual  sin — all  guilt  is  removed 
from  him  (much  the  happier  man)  whom  God  sprin 
kles  with  the  blood  of  Calvary — and  to  whom  sove 
reign  mercy  imputes  the  merits  of  a  Saviour's  sacrifice. 
Let  me  further  illustrate  this.  There  was  another 
method  of  preparing  this  clean  water,  which,  although 
in  some  respects  different,  was  the  same  in  this,  that  ii 
also  implied  the  death  of  a  vicarious  sacrifice.  The 
leper,  a  mass  of  sores  from  crown  to  heel,  a  banished 


222  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

man — banished  from  city,  synagogue,  the  dwellings 
of  men,  and  the  house  of  God — the  victim  of  a  loath- 
some disease,  which  made  his  presence  an  offense  to 
others,  and  his  life  a  burden  to  himself,  was  a  hideous, 
doleful,  revolting  emblem  of  a  sinner.  Kow  let  us 
see  how — when  God  was  pleased  to  cure  him — his 
ceremonial  uncleanness  was  removed.  On  the  happy 
occasion,  which  was  to  restore  him  to  the  arms  of  his 
wife,  the  sweet  society  of  his  children,  the  brotherhood 
of  men,  and  the  presence  of  God — two  living  birds 
were  taken.  They  must  be  doves  or  turtles — the 
gentlest  of  all  God's  creatures,  and  therefore  the  more 
fitting  emblems  of  his  Son.  They  are  held  over  a 
vessel,  already  filled  with  running  water.  One  is 
slain.  The  blood,  as  it  flows  over  the  snowy  plumage 
of  the  fluttering  bird,  falls  into  the  water;  and  that, 
dyed  by  the  crimson  stream,  now  becomes  ''  water  of 
purifying" — the  clean  water  of  the  text.  With  this 
sacred  lavation  the  priest  sprinkles  the  man  who  had 
been  a  leper,  and  now  ceremonially  clean,  that  blessed 
moment  he  is  folded  in  the  embrace  of  his  wife ; 
kisses  his  children,  and  walks  with  them,  a  happy 
man,  at  the  head  of  a  happy  family,  into  the  house  of 
God. 

But  there  were  two  birds.  We  have  seen  one  dis- 
posed of.  What  has  become  of  the  other?  With 
beating  heart  it  is  still  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the 
priest ;  and  the  close  of  this  ceremonial  offers  us  a 
beautiful  and  most  vivid  picture  of  the  removal  of 
guilt.  The  living  bird,  type  of  a  sinner  to  whom  a 
Saviour's  merits  are  to  be  imputed,  is  dipped  head,  feet, 
wings,  and  feathers — plunged  overhead — into  the 
blood-dyed  water.  It  is  "baptized  unto  death."  And, 
brought  out  before  the   people — all  crimsoned   with 


MAN   JUSTIFIED.  2^3 

blood — llie  priest  opens  his  consecrated  Land,  and  re- 
stores the  captive  to  liberty.  Image  of  a  pardoned 
one  on  his  path  to  glory,  ifc  spreads  out  its  wings,  and, 
beating  the  air  with  rapid  and  rejoicing  strokes,  flies 
away  to  its  forest  or  rocky  home. 

You  will  now  understand  the  nature  of  this  clean 
water;  and  cannot  fail,  I  think,  to  see,  that  although 
clothed  in  a  Jewish  dress,  justification  by  faith  in  the 
righteousness  of  Jesus — that  paramount  article  of  our 
creed  which  Luther  called  the  test  of  a  falling  or 
standing  church — is  the  doctrine  of  my  text.  Thus 
understood,  my  text  sheds,  we  think,  a  valuable  light 
on  one  of  the  most  prominent,  and  best  known  and 
most  important  passages  in  the  word  of  God.  When 
Nicodemus,  not  yet  prepared  to  confess  Christ  before 
the  world,  muffled  himself  up  in  his  cloak,  and,  steal- 
ing forth  under  the  cloud  of  night,  sought  an  inter- 
view with  our  Lord,  Jesus  said  to  him — "Except  a 
man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of 
God,"  adding,  by  way  of  explanation,  the  no  less 
memorable  words — "Except  a  man  be  born  of  water 
and  of  the  Spirit  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God." 
Now,  as  commonly  understood,  these  words  refer  only 
to  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is  generally 
thought  that  the  water  there  is  but  an  emblem  of  the 
Spirit,  and  that  our  Lord  just  meant  to  say — ^'  Except 
a  man's  soul  is  purified  by  the  Spirit's  regenerating 
influence,  as  his  body  is  by  water,  he  cannot  be  an 
heir  of  grace  and  an  heir  of  heaven. 

We  venture  to  think,  that  on  that  occasion,  and  in 
these  words,  our  Lord  preaclied  the  Gospel  more  fully. 
Turr.  the  light  of  my  text  upon  them,  read  them  in 
connection  with  it.  understand  b}^  the  water  of  Christ's 
address  the   w\ater  of  my  text,   and  his  language  to 


224  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Nicodemus  expands  into  a  full  Gospel.  If  the  wate. 
in  his  address  meant  only  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  told  a 
truth,  but  not  the  whole  truth.  Are  not  more  than 
T-egenerating  influences  needed,  that  a  man  may  enter 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  For  that  end,  is  not  the 
blood  of  the  Saviour  as  necessary  as  the  renewing  of 
the  Holy  Ghost?  But  let  our  Lord,  in  speaking  to 
Nicodenius — who  as  a  Jew  would  at  once  catch  the 
allusion — have  an  eye  to  the  clean  water  of  the  cere- 
monial law  ;  let  the  water  there  refer,  like  the  water 
here,  to  an  atoning  sacrifice,  and  the  Gospel  in  that 
celebrated  passage  shines  forth  in  its  effulgent  radiance. 
Our  Lord  tells  him  what  I  preach,  and  pray  you  to 
ponder  on,  that  except  you  are  washed  in  his  blood, 
as  well  as  renewed  by  his  Spirit,  you  cannot  see  the 
Kingdom  of  God. 

The  doctrine  of  my  text,  and,  indeed,  of  all  Scrip- 
ture is,  that  nothing  saves  but  blood.  In  that,  as  in 
other  senses,  "  the  life  is  in  the  blood."  There  may  be 
the  sprinkling  of  water,  but  without  the  shedding  and 
sprinkling  of  blood,  there  is  no  remission — no  remis- 
sion, though  the  water  fall  from  the  holiest  hand,  and 
be  itself  the  purest  that  ever  dripped  from  mossy  well 
or  mountain  spring.  It  is  what  came  from  the  bosom 
of  the  upper  heavens,  of  which  that  visible  firmament 
is  but  the  starry  floor,  that  takes  sin  away.  It  is  not 
the  tears  that  fall  from  weeping  heavens,  but  those 
that  fell  from  Jesus'  eyes ;  it  is  not  the  rain  that  drops 
from  dissolving  clouds,  but  the  blood  that  dropped 
from  a  wounded  Saviour  ;  it  is  not  what  falls  when 
lightnings  flash,  and  thunders  roll  along  shaking  skies, 
but  what  fell  when  the  sword  of  justice  was  flashed  in 
his  dying  eye,  and  the  law  pealed  its  loudest  thunders 
on  his  bleeding  head — it  is  that  which  brings  peace  and 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  225 

pardon  to  the  guilty  soul,  and  fills  to  tlie  brim  this 
crimson  fountain,  which  is  opened  for  all  uncleanness. 
"I,"  not  my  ordinances,  not  baptism,  nor  the  sup- 
per, nor  preaching,  nor  prayer,  not  these,  but  "I,"  says 
Jesus,  '*  am  the  way."  Not  a  way,  but  the  way.  There 
is  but  one  way.  Let  me  warn  you,  that  although  there 
is  but  one  way  of  getting  to  heaven,  there  are  two 
ways  of  missing  it ;  and  what — at  first  seems  strange — 
these  two  wa}- s  go  off  in  opposite  directions ;  the  one 
to  this  side  and  the  other  to  that.  Yet,  as  one  man 
traveling  due  westward,  and  another  due  eastward, 
at  the  same  rate  of  so  many  miles  a  day,  would  meet 
again  face  to  face  somewhere  on  the  opposite  side  of. 
the  globe,  beneath  our  feet,  the  travelers  by  the  two 
opposite  paths  I  speak  of  meet  again — meet  in  per. 
dition.  This  doctrine  of  salvation  by  the  blood  and 
righteousness  of  Christ  will — God  blessing  and  en- 
abling you  to  believe  it — guard  you  against  both  er- 
rors— on  this  side  against  presumption,  and  on  that 
against  despair.  Some — and  of  these  the  Pharisee  is 
a  type — believed  that  they  are  not  sinners ;  or,  if  sin- 
ners, that  God  is  not  angry  with  them,  and  will  not 
punish  them.  What  an  exposure  of  the  delusion  is 
that  cross !  The  Son  of  God  dies  there.  Unless  he 
dies,  your  sin  is  not  forgiven.  Others — and  of  these 
Iscariot  is  the  type — turning  away  from  God,  believe 
that  he  is  so  angry  with  them  that  he  will  not  pardon. 
They  look  on  God  as  a  stern,  austere,  vindictive,  and 
implacable  Divinity  ;  in  whom  the  hatred  of  sin,  like  a 
roaring  whirlpool,  has  swallowed  up  all  other  feelings — 
in  whom  the  love,  kindness,  and  pity  of  the  Father  ia 
lost  in  the  sternness  of  the  Judge.  And  so — nor  any 
wonder  when  such  is  their  belief — they  shun  God, 
they  hate  God,  they  try  to  shut  him   out  from  their 


226  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

thouglits  and  wish  — liov/  vain  the  wisli ! — that  thera 
were  no  God  at  all.  But  where,  let  me  ask,  do  we 
find  this  implacable  God  ?  If  I  ascend  into  heaven, 
he  is  not  there  ;  there  God  sits  enthroned,  the  father  of  a 
happy  family — like  an  effulgent  sun,  pouring  gladness 
and  glory  upon  all.  I  return  to  this  earth — go  up  and 
down  the  world — seek  him,  but  he  is  not  here ;  I  can 
not  find  a  trace  or  footprint  of  him  here.  I  see  God's 
sun  shining  without  distinction  on  the  evil  and  the 
good,  and  his  rain  falling  with  the  same  affluent  abun- 
dance on  the  fields  of  the  just  and  the  unjust.  Fields, 
forests,  mountains,  smiling  valleys,  and  sunny  seas, 
are  not  more  full  of  creatures  than  of  happiness ;  and 
from  the  deep  bass  of  ocean  to  the  ringing  carol  of 
the  lark,  nature  forms  one  choir,  and  chants  her  hymns 
to  God.  I  open  the  Bible,  but  he  is  not  here.  Gift  of 
our  heavenly  Father,  dying  legacy  of  an  incarnate 
Son,  revelation  of  a  kind  and  winning  Spirit!  love 
shines  on  thy  every  page,  and  in  thy  very  name  thy 
loving  mercy  is  proclaimed — Gospel,  glad  tidings,  good 
tidings,  of  good.  Of  this  God,  this  appalling  specter, 
whom  Despair  eyes  with  a  dark  and  horrid  scowl, 
Heaven  says,  he  is  not  in  me ;  Earth  saj^s,  he  is  not  in 
me ;  the  Bible  says,  he  is  not  in  me. 

Where  is  he,  then  ?  With  head  averted,  hair  stand- 
ing on  end,  and  stony  horror  in  her  looks,  Despair 
points  to  the  pit,  saying- — look  there!  What  have 
you  to  say  to  that  ?  In  the  first  place,  I  have  certainly 
not  to  say  that  that  hell  is  but  the  dream  which  haunts 
a  guilty  conscience — nor  yet  to  deny  that  there  is  a 
hell.  Ko  :  nor,  further,  to  conceal  it  although  I  could. 
It  were  no  kindness  to  spread  a  covering  over  the  pit; 
that  is  the  cunning  hunter's  business ;  and  the  busi- 
ness of  him  who  hunts  the  world  for  souls.     It  is  an 


MAN  JUSTIFIED.  22 1 

awful  thought,  that  pit ;  it  is  an  awful  reality,  that  pit; 
it  is  an  awful  abode,  that  pit;  and  this  is  an  awful 
declaration,  "  The  wicked  shall  be  cast  into  hell,  and 
all  the  nations  that  fear  not  God."  But  over  against 
these  stern  declarations,  and  between  the  pit  and  you, 
a  high  red  cross  is  standing.  Mercy  descends  from 
heaven,  lights  upon  its  summit,  and  preaches  hope  to 
despair,  pardon  to  guilt,  salvation  to  the  lost.  Free 
as  the  winds  that  fan  her  cheek,  free  as  the  sunbeams 
that  shine  on  her  golden  tresses,  she  invites  all  to 
come,  opens  her  arms  to  embrace  the  world,  and  in  a 
voice  that  rings  like  a  silver  trumpet,  cries,  "  0,  Earth, 
Earth,  Earth,  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord."  A  beautiful 
vision !  Her  eye,  so  pitiful,  swims  in  tears  as  she 
looks  on  poor  sinners,  and,  not  willing  that  any  should 
perish,  she  bids  you  read  on  that  cross,  where  it  is 
written,  not  in  letters  of  gold,  but  blood,  this  greatest 
oath — these  blessed  words: — "As  I  live,  saith  the 
Lord,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked." 
As  /  live,  says  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death 
of  the  wicked.  By  my  cross  and  agony,  by  this 
thorny  crown  and  bloody  tree,  as  /  die,  says  Jesus,  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  Avicked.  Holy 
Spirit !  Dove  of  heaven  !  -hovering  over  u.s,  staying, 
lingering,  refusing  to  be  driven  away,  thou  sayest,  aa 
I  now  plead,  entreat,  implore,  "  I  have  no  pleasure  la 
the  death  of  the  wicked." 


an  Couij^ii^Jl. 


A  new  heart  also  "will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within 
you ;  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and 
I  will  give  you  an  heart  of  flesh. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  26. 

It  is  a  bappy  thing  that  baptism  is  not  the  door  of 
heaven ; — happy  for  milhons,  who,  dying  in  earliest 
infancy,  never  pass  that  way.  Dying  unbaptized,  we 
hold  that  they  die  not  on  that  account  unsaved ;  for 
whoever  dare  hang  God's  mercy  on  any  outward  rite, 
we  do  not,  and  although  we  believe  that  this  interest- 
ing ordinance  is  also,  when  engaged  in  with  faith,  an 
eminently  blessed  one,  we  dare  not.  Thousands  go 
to  heaven  without  baptism.  Thousands,  alas !  perish 
with  it.  Heaven  is  greatly  made  up  of  little  children 
— sweet  buds  that  have  never  blown,  or  which  death 
has  plucked  from  a  mother's  bosom  to  lay  on  his  own 
sold  breast,  just  when  they  were  expanding,  flower- 
like, from  the  sheath,  and  opening  their  engaging 
beauties  in  the  budding  time  and  spring  of  life.  "Of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  How  sweet  these 
words  by  the  cradle  of  a  dying  infant!  They  fall 
like  balm  drops  on  our  bleeding  heart,  when  we  watch 
the  ebbing  of  that  young  life,  as  wave  after  wave 
breaks  feebler,  and  the  sinking  breath  gets  lower  and 
lower,  till  with  a  gentle  sigh,  and  a  passing  quiver  of 
the  lip,  our  child  now  leaves  its  bod}^,  lying  like  an 
angel  asleep,  and  ascends  to  the  beatitudes  of  heaven 
and  the  bosom  of  God.     Indeed,  it  may  be  that  God 


MAN   CONVERTED.  229 

does  with  liis  heavenly  garden  as  we  do  with  our  own 
gardens.  He  may  chiefly  stock  it  from  nurseries,  and 
select  for  transplanting  what  is  yet  in  its  young  and 
tender  age — flowers  before  they  have  bloomed,  and 
trees  ere  they  begin  to  bear. 

In  the  words  of  the  Westminster  Catechism,  *'  Bap- 
tism is  a  sacrament,  wherein  the  wasliing  with  water 
in  the  name  of  tlie  Father,  and  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  doth  signify  and  seal  our  ingrafting  into  Christ, 
and  partaking  of  the  benefits  of  the  covenant  of  grace, 
and  our  engagement  to  be  the  Lord's."  Baptism  at- 
taches us  to  the  visible  church  ;  admits  to  that^  and  is  its 
door  of  entrance  ;  but,  while  it  unites  to  the  body  of 
professing  believers,  it  does  not  of  necessity  form  any 
living  attachment  between  us  and  the  Saviour.  Let 
us  see  what  is  done  in  these  ordinances. 

Years  ago  a  man  stood  up  in  the  house  of  God,  and 
m  his  arms  there  lay  a  sleeping  child.  Dipping  his 
nand  into  a  laver,  the  minister  sprinkled  some  drops 
on  the  infant's  face,  and  over  the  unconscious  creature 
pronounced  the  names  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost.  That  child  was  you.  By  hands,  now  mold- 
ering  in  the  grave,  your  father  then  tied  you — so  to 
speak — to  Christ.  Well,  time  rolls  on,  and  infants 
grow  into  children,  children  shoot  up  into  youths,  and 
youths  change  into  bearded  men ;  and  then  there 
comes  another  day.  A  table  is  spread  in  the  house 
of  God.  Like  the  shroud  in  which  kind  women 
swathed  his  sacred  body,  a  linen  cloth  covers  the  me- 
morials of  Christ's  death.  The  broken  body  is  un 
covered,  the  commemoration  begins;  and,  amid  the 
stillness  of  that  solemn  scene,  with  thoughtful  coun 
tenance,  a  man  leaves  his  seat,  and  taking  the  bread, 
and  raising  the  wine-cup  in  his  hand,  he  dedicates  him- 


230  THE    GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

self  to  the  Saviour.  That  man  again  is  3'Ou.  And 
now  awake,  not  asleep,  conscious  of  what  is  done,  not 
passive  but  active  now,  with  3'our  own  hands  you 
cast  another  knot  upon  the  cord  by  which  your  father 
years  ago  bound  j^ou  to  Jesus.  You  are  now  tied — 
doubly  tied — yet  it  does  not  follow  that  you  are  3'et 
engrafted  into  him. 

I  have  seen  a  branch  tied  to  the  bleeding  tree,  for 
the  purpose  of  being  engrafted  into  its  wounded  body, 
and  that  thus  both  might  be  one.  Yet  no  incorpora- 
tion had  followed  ;  there  was  no  living  union.  Spring 
came  singing,  and  with  her  fingers  opened  all  the 
buds ;  and  summer  came,  with  her  dewy  nights  and 
sunny  days,  and  brought  out  all  the  flowers;  and 
brown  autumn  came  to  shake  the  trees  and  reap  the 
fields,  and  with  dances  and  mirth  to  hold  "  harvest 
home ;"  but  that  unhappy  branch  bore  no  fruit,  nor 
flower,  nor  even  leaf.  Just  held  on  by  dead  clay  and 
rotting  cords,  it  stuck  to  the  living  tree — a  withered 
and  unsightly  thing.  So  alas  1  is  it  with  man 3^ ;  "  hav- 
ing a  name  to  live  they  are  dead."  They  have  no 
faith ;  they  want  that  bond  of  living  union  between 
the  graft  and  what  it  is  grafted  on — between  the  sinner 
and  the  Saviour.  And,  therefore,  in  quitting  this  part 
of  our  subject  for  another,  let  me  ask,  "  believest 
thou;'*  and  if  thou  dost  not,  0,  let  me  urge  3^ ou  to 
pray  with  the  man  in  the  Gospel,  "Lord,  help  mine 
unbelief?" 

Do  you  say,  I  cannot  believe  ?  In  one  sense,  that 
IS  true ;  in  another,  it  is  not.  It  is  not  true  in  the 
game  sense  as  it  is  true^that  a  man  who  has  no  eyes 
in  his  head — nothing  but  empty  sockets — can  not  see. 
All  men  are  born  with  faith.  Faith  is  as  natural  to  a 
man  as  grief,   or  love,   or  anger.     One  of  the  earliest 


MAN   CONVERTED.  231 

tlowers  that  springs  up  in  the  soul — it  smiles  on  a 
mother  from  her  infant's  cradle ;  and  living  on  through 
the  rudest  storms  of  life,  it  never  dies  till  the  hour  of 
death.  On  the  face  of  a  child  which  has  been  left  for 
a  little  time  with  strangers,  and  may  be  caressed  with 
their  kisses,  and  courted  with  their  sniiles,  and  fondled, 
and  dandled  in  their  arms,  I  have  seen  a  cloud  gather- 
ing, and  growing  darker,  till  at  length  it  burst  in  cries 
of  terror  and  a  shower  of  tears.  The  mother  returns  ; 
and  when  the  babe  holds  out  its  little  arms  to  her,  I 
see  in  these  the  arms  of  faith  ;  and  when,  like  a  be- 
hcver  restored  to  the  bosom  of  his  God,  it  is  nestling 
in  a  mother's  embrace,  and  the  cloud  passes  from  its 
brow,  and  its  tears  are  changed  into  smiles,  and  its 
terror  into  calm  serenity,  we  behold  the  principle  of 
faith  in  play.  This  is  one  of  its  earliest,  and — so  far 
as  nature  is  concerned — one  of  its  most  beautiful  de- 
velopments. So  natural,  indeed,  is  it  for  us  to  con 
fide,  and  trust,  and  believe,  that  a  child  believes  what- 
ever it  is  told,  until  experience  shakes  its  confidence 
in  human  veracity.  Its  eye  is  caught  by  the  beauty 
of  some  flov/er,  or  it  gazes  up  with  wonder  on  tho 
starry  heavens ; — with  that  inquisitivencss  which  in 
childhood,  active  as  a  bee,  is  ever  on  the  wing,  it  is 
curious  to  know  who  made  them,  and  would  believe 
you  if  you  said  you  made  them  yourself  Such  is  the 
faith  which  nature  gives  it  in  a  father,  that  it  never 
doubts  his  word.  It  believes  all  he  says,  and  is  con- 
tent to  believe  where  it  is  not  able  to  comprehend. 
For  this,  as  well  as  other  reasons,  our  Lord  presented, 
n  a  child,  the  living  model  of  a  Christian.  lie  left 
.Vbrabam,  father  of  the  faithful,  to  liis  repose  in 
Ltiiven  ;  he  left  Samuel,  undisturbed,  to  enjoy  the 
qn:tt  rest  of  his  grave;  he  allowed  Moses  and  Ellas, 


232  TUE    GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

after  tlieir  brief  visit,  to  return  to  the  skies,  and  wing 
their  way  back  to  glory.  For  a  pattern  of  faith,  he 
took  a  boy  from  his  mother's  side,  and,  setting  him 
up,  in  his  gentle,  blushing,  shrinking  modesty,  before 
the  great  assembl}^,  he  said,  "  Whosoever  shall  not 
receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  shall  in 
no  wise  enter  therein." 

Paul  said,  ''  When  I  was  a  child  I  spake  as  a  child, 
I  thought  as  a  child  ;  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put 
away  childish  things;"  but  no  man  ever  thought  of 
leaving  the  faith  of  childhood  with  its  rattle  and  its 
toys.  Faith  is,  in  fact,  the  soul  and  life  of  friendship. 
What  is  a  friend,  but  one  whom  I  can  trust,  one  who, 
I  believe,  will  mingle  his  tears  with  mine,  and  whose 
support  I  reckon  on  when  my  back  is  at  the  wall  ? 
Without  faith  in  each  other's  friendship,  kindness,  and 
honesty,  this  world  would  be  turned  into  a  Bedouin 
desert;  men  would  become  Ishmaelites; — my  hand 
against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  me. 
Faith  is  the  marriage  tie;  the  guardian  angel  of  con 
jugal  felicity ;  the  jeweled  zone  that  binds  society 
together ;  the  power,  mightier  than  steam,  or  wind,  or 
water,  that  moves  all  the  wheels  of  commerce.  Unless 
man  could  trust  his  fellow-man,  business  would  come 
to  a  dead  stand ;  the  whole  machinery  of  the  world 
would  stop ;  our  busy  streets  would  bear  crops  of 
grass  ;  and,  though  winds  blew  and  tides  flowed  as  be- 
fore, rotting  ships  would  fall  to  pieces  in  our  silent 
and  deserted  harbors. 

Leaving  the  busy  city  for  rural  scenes,  or  setting 
your  foot  on  board  ship,  and  pushing  out  upon  the 
heaving  ocean,  you  find  faith  ploughing  the  fields  of 
both — faith  in  the  laws  of  nature,  in  the  ordinances  of 
Providence.     When  the  air  has  still  a  frosty  breatli, 


MAN   CONVERTED.  233 

and,  althoagh  cleared  of  winter  snow,  the  earth  is  cold 
and — looks  dead  as  a  corpse  disrobed  of  its  shroud — 
it  shows  neither  flower  nor  leaf,  nor  sign  of  life,  the 
husbandman,  notwithstanding,  yokes  his  team  and 
drives  the  ploughshare  through  its  breasts.  With 
confidence  in  his  step,  liberality  in  his  hand,  and  hope 
in  his  eye,  he  scatters  the  seed  far  and  wide  on  the 
bosom  of  the  ground.  He  is  a  believer;  a  believer  in 
Providence — in  the  laws  and  procession  of  the  seasons. 
He  has  faith ;  not  saving  faith  indeed,  but  still  true 
faith.  He  believes  that  out  of  these  frosty  skies  gentle 
zephyrs  shall  blow,  and  soft  showers  shall  fall,  and 
summer  beams  shall  shine ;  and,  looking  along  the 
vista  of  time,  he  sees  golden  corn  waving  thick  upon 
these  empty  fields,  and  hears  in  this  silent  scene  the  joy 
of  light  hearts  ringing  in  the  laugh  and  song  of  the 
reapers.  His  ploughing  and  his  sowing  are  acts  of 
genuine  faith  ;  and,  as  he  strides  across  the  field  with 
his  sowing  sheet  around  him,  he  is  an  example  of  one, 
who,  with  his  eye,  as  well  as  his  foot,  on  earth, 
"  Walks  by  fiiith,  not  by  sight." 

Then  again,  sailing  as  much  as  sowing  is  an  act  of 
fiiith.  In  this  rough  and  weather-beaten  mariner,  on 
board  whose  ship  we  are  dashing  through  the  thick 
gloom  of  a  starless  night,  and  over  the  waves  of  a 
pathless  ocean,  I  see  faith  standing  at  the  helm. 
That  man  has  faith  in  the  needle ;  and  believing  that 
the  heart  of  an  angel  is  not  more  true  to  God  than 
this  needle  to  the  north,  he  presses  forward  over  tho 
watery  waste  in  a  voyage,  that  may  with  perfect  truth 
be  called  a  voyage  of  faith.  Would  to  God  we  had 
as  strong  a  faith  in  our  Bible!  Would  to  God  that 
our  trembling  hearts  pointed  as  true  to  Jesus,  as  his 
needle  in  all  weathers,  and  on  all  seas,  to  the  distant 


284  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

pole!  What  we  want  divine  grace  to  do,  is  not  so 
much  to  give  us  faith,  as  to  give  to  the  principle  or 
faculty  of  faith,  v/hich  we  have  by  nature,  a  right, 
holy,  heavenward  direction ;  to  convert  it  into  faith 
in  things  eternal.  The  faith  that  sees  an  unseen 
world — a  faith  just  as  strong  in  the  revelations  of  the 
Bible  as  in  the  ordinary  laws  of  nature,  this  is  what 
we  need.  Let  it  be  sought  in  earnest,  persevering 
prayer.  It  is  "the  gift  of  God."  Saving  faith  has 
God  for  its  author,  the  Spirit  for  its  agent,  Christ  for 
its  object,  grace  for  its  root,  holiness  for  its  fruit,  and 
heaven  for  its  reward.  Accepting  the  righteousness 
of  Christ,  it  makes  us  just;  and  seeing  every  sin  par- 
doned, all  guilt  removed,  God  smiling,  and  heaven 
opening  to  receive  us,  it  is  the  spring  of  a  peace  of 
mind  which  is  worth  more  than  the  wealth  of  worlds, 
which  passeth  all  understanding.  May  God  help  us 
to  the  confession  and  the  praj^er,  "Lord  I  believe, 
help  thou  mine  unbelief" 

We  have  already  stated  that  while  salvation  was 
the  one  thing  needful,  there  were  two  things  needful 
for  salvation.  Having  considered  the  first  of  these, 
namely,  the  remission  of  sin  and  justification  of  the 
sinner,  we  now  enter  on  the  second,  namely,  the  reno- 
vation of  the  soul  as  enunciated  in  the  words,  "A 
new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I 
put  within  you,  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart 
out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you  a  heart  of  flesh." 
And  we  remark — 

L  This  is  a  great  change.  Not  that  all  men  think 
go.  Once  on  a  time,  for  instance,  we  wandered  into  a 
church  in  tins  cit}^  Tlie  preacher  read  these  words 
for  his  text,  "Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  can  not 


MAN   CONVERTED.  235 

see  the  kingdom  of  God.''     And  jast  as  at  the  fords 
of  Jordan,  they  knew  a  man's  country  by  the  way  he 
sounded  Shibboleth,  so  you  will  never  fail  to  know  a 
man's  creed  by  the  way  in  which  he  handles  such  a 
passage  as  that.     The  preacher  read   his  text ;  and 
then,  as  it  were,  sat  down  by  the  cradle,   wliere  liis 
charge  was  sleeping,  to  rock  them  over  into  a  deeper 
slumber.     The  text,  forsooth,  was  an  oriental  figure ! 
a  hyperbole!    pointing  to  an  outward  change.     No 
more  was  needed.     In  the  strong  and  highly  figura* 
tive   language  which  eastern  nations   indulge   in,   it 
described  the  change  undergone    by  the   man   who 
abandons  a  wild  and  wicked  life  for  habits  of  decency, 
honesty,  and  temperance.     Far  be  it  from  me  to  speak 
lightly  of  temperance  societies,  or  of  any  scheme,  in- 
deed, that  aims  at  the  dignity  and  elevation  of  man ; 
yet,  according  to  the  preacher,  our  Lord's  language 
meant  nothing  more  than  the  change  which  these  in- 
stitutions  are  of  themselves  able   to   accomplish — a 
change  of  habits   without   any   gracious   change  of 
heart.     Did  a  drunkard  become  sober?  he  was  born 
again  ;  a  libertine  pure  ?  or  thief  honest  ?  or  liar  true  ? 
he  was  born  again  !     In  short,  such  was  the  style  and 
character  of  the  discourse,  that  if  a  poor,  hungry  soul 
had  gone  there  for  bread,  he  could  have  got  nothing- 
carried  away  nothing — but  a  stone  ;  and  instead  of  a 
fish,  we  saw  the  serpent's  coil,  and  heard  her  hiss.    The 
preacher  taught  that  these  words  were  applicable  only 
to  the  scum  and  off-scourings  of  the  city — the  dregs  of 
society — those  poor,  depraved,  degraded  creatures,  who, 
weighed  down  by  a  load  of  poverty  and  ignorance 
and  guilt,  have  sunk  to  the  bottom,  and  to  our  shame 
are  left  to  lie  there  in  distressing  and  dreadful  pollu 
tion.     So  far  as  any  congregation   of  decent,    well- 


236  THE   GOSPEL  IN   EZEKIEL. 

dressed,  sober,  honest,  reputable  professors  of  religion 
were  concerned,  that  truth  had  no  bearing  on  them ; 
our  Lord — although  he  assuredly  found  in  Nicodemus 
one  of  this  class — did  not  speak  of  them ;  thej,  happy 
moitals  I  had  no  need  to  be  born  again. 

You  cannot  fancy  any  two  things  more  opposed  to 
each  other  than  that  doctrine  and  ours.  We  believe 
that  the  purest,  gentlest,  loveliest,  most  amiable  crea- 
ture that  blesses  fond  parents,  and  adorns  earth's 
happiest  home — one  of  nature's  fairest  flowers — stands 
as  much  in  need  of  a  new  birth  as  the  vilest  outcast 
who  walks  these  streets — the  lost  one,  whose  name  is 
never  mentioned  but  by  broken  hearts  and  in  wrest- 
ling prayers  to  God.  The  best  of  mankind  are  so  bad 
that  all  have  need  to  be  born  again  ;  so  bad,  that  the 
change  promised  in  the  text,  and  insisted  on  by  our 
Saviour,  can  not  be  a  surface  or  superficial  matter. — 
any  mere  defilement  of  the  skin  which  nitre  and  soap 
may  remove.  Words  have  no  meaning  unless  this 
change  is  a  radical  reform — a  change  great  in  its  char- 
acter, and  lasting  in  its  consequences — a  change, 
which,  affecting  not  the  habits  only,  but  the  heart, 
both  reaches  downward  into  the  deepest  recesses  of 
the  soul,  and  stretches  forward  into  the  ages  of 
eternity. 

Now,  I  am  afraid  that  some — dreaming,  as  they 
slumber,  that  they  have  been  born  again,  and  so  are 
safe,  because  their  conduct  is  changed,  and  because, 
so  far  as  their  mere  habits  are  concerned,  they  are 
better  than  once  they  were — have  gone  to  sleep  before 
this  work  is  even  begun.  Beware  of  rash  conclusions 
of  such  momentous  importance.  Have  we  not  seen 
passions,  like  the  fire  upon  the  hearlh,  burn  out  and 
die  for  want  of  fuel?     Have  we  not  seen  the  oour?o 


MAN   CONVERTED.  287 

of  vice,  like  a  worn  out  machine,  stop  from  the  decays 
of  nature — from  the  mere  wear  and  tear  of  its  mate- 
rials. Virtue  is  cheap ;  vice  is  costly ;  and,  proving 
a  heavy  tax  upon  the  purse,  destructive  of  health,  and 
damaging  to  character,  we  have  seen  self-interest  turn 
a  man  from  the  indulgence  of  his  strongest  vices. 
Old  age  cools  liot  blood.  Successive  bereavements 
will  in  a  way  break  the  heart,  and  some  deep  disap- 
pointment may  wean  those,  who  have  the  keenest  ap- 
petite for  its  pleasures,  from  the  gayeties  and  vanities 
of  the  world.  And,  as  in  Roman  Catholic  countries, 
many  a  cowled  monk,  and  many  a  veiled  nun,  enters 
convent  or  monastery  more  from  feelings  of  disap- 
pointment than  devotion ;  so,  when  hopes  are  blasted, 
and  pride  is  mortified,  and  ambition  has  missed  her 
mark,  you  may  get  sick  of  the  world.  Alas !  all  who 
bid  adieu  to  the  ball-room  and  theater,  and  giddy 
round  of  fashion,  do  not  leave  the  circle  of  their  en- 
chantments for  the  closet,  for  the  sanctuary,  for  fields 
of  Christian  benevolence.  As  by  sleight  of  hand  and 
necromantic  trick,  Egypt's  magicians  produced  a  set 
of  mimic  miracles,  that  were  clever  counterfeits  of 
those  w'hich  God  wrought  by  the  hand  of  Moses,  may 
n^c  other  causes  than  true  love  of  holiness  or  godly 
hatred  of  sin  work  such  an  outward,  as  bears  some 
considerable  likeness  to  a  saving  change  ?  In  matters 
of  religion,  beware  of  confounding  an  almost  with  an 
altogether  Christian.  So  far  as  it  goes,  any  change  for 
the  better  is  good.  We  hail  it  with  hope.  It  is  good 
go  far  as  it  goes,  and  good  so  long  as  it  lasts ;  but  Oh, 
let  us  not  fall  into  the  fatal  mistake  of  confounding 
an  outward  reformation  with  that  divine,  inward, 
eternal  transformation  which  is  wrought  by  the  Spirit, 


ZoQ  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  promised  in  the  words,  "  A  new  heart  also  will  I 
give  you." 

Leaving  the  nature  of  this  change  to  be  afterwards 
considered,  let  me  attempt  meanwhile  to  show  thai 
this  is  a  great  change.  In  illustration  of  the  truth, 
look,  I  pray  you,  to  the  symbols  under  which  it  is 
presented  in  the  Word  of  God. 

li  w  a  birth. 

When  an  infant  leaves  the  womb — that  darksome 
dwelling,  where  it  has  passed  the  first  stage  of  its 
existence, — although  the  same  creature,  it  may  be  said 
to  be  a  new  creature,  and  to  enter  on  a  new  being. 
How  great  the  change  from  that  living  sepulcher, 
where  it  lay  entombed,  nor  saw,  nor  heard,  nor 
breathed,  nor  loved,  nor  feared,  nor  took  any  more  in- 
terest than  the  dead  in  all  that  was  happening  around 
it!  Alive,  yet  how  like  death  its  state  has  been. 
Having  eyes,  it  saw  not,  and  ears  it  heard  not,  and 
feet  it  walked  not,  and  hands  it  handled  not,  and  af- 
fections it  felt  not.  Its  state  was  a  strange  and  myste- 
rious minghng  of  the  characters  of  life  and  death 
AVhen  the  windows  of  its  senses  are  thrown  open,  and 
streams  of  knowledge  come  rushing  in  on  its  young 
and  wondering  soul,  and  its  eyes  follow  the  light,  and 
with  its  restless  hands  it  is  acquainting  itself  with 
matter,  and  sounds  are  entering  its  ears,  amid  whose 
mingled  din  it  soon  learns  to  distinguish  the  sweet 
tones  of  one  tender  voice — its  mother's,  and  it  loves, 
and  is  loved,  and  lies  nestling  in  dreamy  slumbers  on 
lier  bosom,  or  sweetly  smiles  in  her  smiling  face — hov/ 
great  the  change!  Now,  just  because  the  change 
wrought  on  the  soul  in  conversion  is  also  great,  and 
introduces  its  subject  into  a  new  and  delightful  exist- 
ence, it  borrows  a  name  from  that  change.     That  is 


MAN   CONVERTED.  239 

the  first,  this  is  the  second  birth  ;  aye,  and  infinitely 
the  better  of  the  two.  Better !  because  in  that  a  son 
of  man  is  born  but  for  the  grave,  whereas  in  this  a 
son  of  God  is  born  for  glory.  Better !  because  the 
march  of  these  little  feet  is  along  a  rough  path  be- 
tween a  cradle  and  a  coffin ;  whereas,  the  way  of 
grace,  however  full  of  trials,  toil,  and  battle,  is  from 
the  pangs  of  birth  onward  and  upward  to  a  crown  in 
lieaven.  Happy  for  you  if  you  are  heaven-born  and 
heaven-bound.  It  may  be  that  a  stormy  life  lies  be- 
fore you ;  but  let  storms  rage  and  tempests  roar — 
however  rude  the  gale  or  high  the  rolling  billows — a 
heaven-born  passenger  in  a  heaven-bound  bark,  you 
cannot  miss  the  haven.  "  There  remaineth  a  rest  to 
the  people  of  God." 

This  change  is  a  resurrection.  A  resurrection  is  a 
great  change.  Go  to  the  churchyard.  Go  where  death 
shall  one  day  carry  you,  whether  you  will  or  not. 
"  Come,"  said  the  angels,  "  see  the  place  where  the 
Lord  lay."  Come,  let  us  see  the  place  where  we  our- 
selves shall  lie,  and  look  at  man  as  we  ourselves  shall 
be.  Take  him  in  any  of  his  stages  of  decay.  Look 
at  this  compressed  line  of  mold,  that  by  its  color 
marks  itself  out  as  different  from  the  neighboring 
clay;  it  is  black  earth,  and  retains  no  apparent  ves- 
tige of  organization.  What  resemblance  does  it  beai 
to  a  man  ?  None.  Yet  gather  it  together  and  give 
it  to  the  chemist ;  he  analyzes  it,  and  pronounces  this 
unctuous  dust  to  have  been  once  a  human  creature. 
It  may  have  been  a  beautj^,  who  with  alarm  saw  the 
roses  fading  on  her  cheek,  and  age  tracing  wrinkles 
on  her  ivory  brow,  and  mixing  in  gray  hairs  with  her 
raven  locks.  It  may  have  been  a  beggar,  who,  tired 
of  his  cold  and  hungry  pilgrimage,  laid  his  head  gladly 


21:0  THK   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

in  the  lap  of  mother  earth,  and  ended  his  weary  wan- 
derings here.  It  may  have  been  a  king,  who  was 
dragged  from  amid  his  guards  to  the  tomb,  and  sul- 
lenly yielded  to  the  sway  of  a  monarch  mightier  than 
himself.  Or,  look  here  at  these  yellow  relics  of  mor- 
tality which  the  grave-digger — familiar  with  his  trade 
— treats  with  such  irreverent  contempt.  Look  at  these 
preachers  of  humihty — at  this  moldering  skull,  tlie 
deserted  paAce  of  a  soul,  within  which  high  intellect 
once  sat  enthroned — at  those  fleshless  cheeks,  once 
blooming  with  smiles  and  roses — at  that  skeleton  hand, 
which  may  once  have  grasped  the  helm  of  public 
affairs,  or  swayed  the  passions  of  capricious  multi- 
tudes, or  held  up  the  cross  from  sacred  pulpits  to  the 
eyes  of  dying  men — at  those  moldering  limbs,  which 
piety  may  have  bent  to  God — and  at  these  hollow 
sockets — now  the  nest  of  slimy  worms — where  glances 
of  love  have  melted,  and  looks  of  fire  have  flashed. 
■  Turning  away  your  head  with  horror  and  humilia- 
tion, to  think  that  you  shall  lie  where  they  are — and  be 
as  they  are — you  say,  Alas !  what  a  change  is  there  1 
Ah  I  but  Faith  steps  forward,  plants  a  triumphant 
foot  on  the  black  grave's  edge,  and  silencing  my 
fears,  dispelling  my  gloom,  and  reconciling  me  to  that 
lowly  bed,  she  lifts  her  cheerful  voice,  and  exclaims, 
True!  but  what  a  change  shall  be  there!  Looking 
through  her  eyes,  I  see  the  spell  broken.  1  see  that 
dust  once  more  animate.  And  when  the  blast  of  the 
trumpet — penetrating. the  caves  of  the  rocks,  and  felt 
down  in  the  depths  of  ocean — pierces  the  car  of  death 
in  this  dark,  and  cold,  and  lonely  bed,  where  I  have 
lowered  a  coffin,  and  left  the  dear  form  and  sweet  face 
of  some  loved  one,  mortality  shall  rise  in  form  immor- 
tal, more  beautiful  than  love  ever  fancied,  or  poet 


MAN    CONVERTED.  241 

sang.  How  great  the  change,  when  these  molderinor 
bones,  which  children  look  at  with  fear,  and  grown 
men  with  solemn  sadness,  shall  rise  instinct  with  life! 
Think  of  this  handful  of  brown  dust  springing  np  into 
a  form  like  that  on  which  Adam  gazed  with  niute 
astonishment,  when  for  the  lirst  time  he  caught  the 
image  of  himself  mirrored  in  a  glassy  pool  of  Pan- 
dise  ;  or  better  still,  in  a  form  such  as,  when  awaken- 
ing from  his  slumber,  he  saw  wnth  wondering,  admir- 
ing ej^es,  in  the  lovely  woman  that  lay  by  his  side  on 
their  bed  of  love  and  flowers.  And  now,  because  the 
change  which  conversion  works  on  the  soul  is  also 
inexpressibly  great,  it  borrows  a  name  from  that 
mighty  change;  that,  a  resurrection  of  the  body  from 
the  grave,  this,  a  resurrection  of  the  soul  from  sin. 
In  this  "  we  pass  from  death  to  life" — in  this  we  are 
"  created  anew  in  Jesus  Christ."  "  We  rise  with 
Ilim,"  says  the  Apostle,   "  to  newness  of  life." 

The  greatness  of  the  clianrje  is  set  forth  in  the  symbol- 
ical  represeiitation  of  it  in  the  next  chapter.  Seized  by 
the  hand  of  the  Spirit,  Ezekiel  is  borne  aloft,  carried 
away  through  the  air,  and  set  down  in  a  lonely  valley 
among  the  hills  of  a  distant  land.  This  valley  seems 
to  have  been,  at  some  former  period,  the  scene  of  a 
great  battle.  There  hosts  had  sustained  the  charge  of 
hosts,  and  crowns  were  perhaps  staked  and  won.  The 
peace  of  these  solitudes  had  been  rudely  broken  by 
the  shrieks  of  the  wounded,  the  wild  shouts  of  the 
victors,  the  clash  of  arms,  and  the  savage  roar  of  bat- 
tle. It  was  silent  now.  The  tide  that  swept  over  it 
bad  left  it  strewed  with  Avrecks;  the  dead  had  mold- 
ered  unburied  where  they  fell ;  the  skull  rattled  in  the 
cloven  helmet ;  the  sword  of  the  warrior  lay  rusting 
beside  his  skeleton,  and  the  handle  was  still  in  the 

11 


242  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

relaxed  grasp  of  the  bony  fingers.  On  these  unLuried 
corpses  the  "birds  of  tlie  air  had  summered,"  and  "  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  field  had  wintered."  The  rain  had 
washed,  and  the  sun  had  bleached  them ; — thej  were 
white  and  dry.  In  these  grim  and  gbasty  skeletons 
a  doleful  picture  of  death  lay  stretched  out  before  the 
prophet ;  and  while  he  surveyed  the  scene,  there  was 
neither  sign  nor  sound  of  life,  but,  it  may  be,  the 
croak  of  the  raven,  or  the  howl  of  the  famished  wolf, 
or  the  echo  of  his  own  solitary  footfall.  Such  was  the 
scene  Ezekiel  was  contemplating  when  a  voice  made 
him  start.  It  came  from  the  skies,  charged  with  this 
strange  question,  "  Son  of  man,  can  these  bones 
live  ?" 

We  stay  not  to  relate  all  that  happened  and  was 
done.  It  serves  our  purpose  to  say,  that  after  the 
prophet  had  preached  to  the  bones,  he  prayed  to  Him 
who — to  dead  bones,  dead  bodies,  dead  hearts,  dead 
souls,  dead  families,  and  dead  churches — is  "the  Ee- 
surrection  and  the  Life."  Ezekiel's  was  the  prayer  of 
faith — and  it  had  its  answer.  How  encouraging  to  us, 
when  on  our  knees,  that  answer !  We  feel  as  if  Aaron 
and  Hur  sat  at  our  side,  and  held  up  our  weary  arms. 
Ezekiel,  after  preaching,  prayed  ;  and  there  came  froir 
heaven  a  living  and  life-giving  breath.  It  blows  down 
the  valley  ;  and  as  it  kisses  the  icy  lips  of  the  dead, 
and  stirs  their  hair,  and  fans  their  faces,  man  after 
man  springs  to  his  feet,  till  the  field  which  Ezekiel 
found  covered  with  ghastly  skeletons  is  crowded  with 
a  mighty  army — all  armed  for  battle  and  war — the 
marshaled  host  of  God. 

That  was  a  great  change,  and  not  less  great  the 
work  of  grace  in  conversion.  While  the  prophet  is 
gazing    with   astonished    eye    on  this  martial  arr-ay. 


MAN   CONVERTED.  243 

where,  amid  trumpet  echoes,  spears  are  gleaming, 
and  plumes  are  dancing,  as,  bold  in  aspect  and  stout 
for  war,  the  serried  ranks  march  on,  mark  what  the 
Lord  said  : — "Son  of  man,  these  bones  are  the  whole 
house  of  Israel ;  behold  they  say,  Our  bones  are 
dried,  and  our  hope  is  lost."  Wow,  is  not  this  the 
very  judgment — the  very  sentence — which  the  sinner 
often  pronounces  on  his  own  case  when  his  eyes  are 
first  opened,  and  he  sees  himself  lost  and  undone? 
What  is  the  house  of  Israel  here  but  a  type  of  God's 
chosen  people  ?  In  Israel  we  see  our  state  by  nature  ; 
a  state  of  death  ;  a  state  in  which  we  are  "dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins."  On  this  account  Satan  would 
have  us  yield  to  despair.  He  says  that  for  such  sin- 
ners there  is  no  help — no  hope.  It  is  he  who  speaks 
in  the  complaint,  "Our  bones  are  dried,  and  our  hope 
is  lost."  Yes,  it  is  he,  the  father  of  lies,  the  enemy  of 
souls.  Yield  not  even  to  a  doubt,  for  here  "  he  that 
doubteth  is  damned  ;"  but  mark  God's  gracious  answer 
to  that  unbelieving,  dark,  desponding  complaint — 
"  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  ;  behold,  O  my  people,  I 
will  open  your  graves,  and  I  will  put  my  spirit  within 
you,  and  ye  shall  live." 

Hereafter,  we  w^ill  enter  particularly  into  the  nature 
of  this  great  change;  meauAvhile,  let  me  ask.  Have 
you  any  experience  of  it?  I  neither  ask  when,  nor 
where,  nor  how  you  felt  its  first  impressions.  On 
these  subjects  the  experience  of  saints  is  very  different. 
Some  can  tell  the  time  of  it — giving  day  and  date,  the 
hour,  the  providence,  the  place,  the  text,  the  preacher, 
and  all  the  circumstances  associated  with  their  con 
version.  They  can  show  the  arrow,  which,  shot  from 
some  bow  drawn  at  a  venture,  pierced  the  joints  of 
their  armor,  and  quivered  in  their  heart.     They  can 


244  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

show  the  pebble  from  the  brook,  that,  slung,  ii  uiay 
be,  bj  a  youthful  hand,  but  directed  of  God,  was 
buried  in  the  forehead  of  their  giant  sin.  They  can 
show  the  word  that  penetrated  their  soul,  and — in 
some  truths  of  Scripture — the  salve  that  healed  the 
sore,  the  balm  that  stanched  the  blood,  and  the  ban- 
dage that  Christ's  own  kind  hand  Avrapped  on  the 
bleeding  wound.  Able  to  trace  the  steps  and  whole 
progress  of  their  conversion — its  most  minute  and  in- 
teresting details — they  can  say  with  David,  "  Come 
and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what 
he  hath  done  for  my  soul." 

It  is  not  so,  however,  with  all,  or,  perhaps,  with 
most.  Some,  so  to  speak,  are  still-born;  they  were 
unconscious  of  their  change  ;  they  did  not  know  when 
or  how  it  happened ;  for  a  Avhile  at  least,  they  gave 
hardly  a  sign  of  life.  With  many  the  dawn  of  grace 
is,  in  more  respects  than  one,  like  the  dawn  of  day. 
"We  turn  our  face  to  the  east,  and  our  back  to  the 
setting  stars,  to  note  the  very  moment  of  the  birth  of 
morning ;  3^et  how  hard  it  is  to  tell  when  and  where 
the  first  faint,  cold,  steel-gray  gleam  appears.  It  is  so 
with  many  in  regard  to  their  spiritual  dawn, — with 
the  breaking  of  an  eternal  day,^ — with  their  first  emo- 
tions of  desire,  and  of  alarm,  as  with  that  faint  and 
feeble  streak,  which  brightened,  and  widened,  and 
spread,  till  it  blazed  into  a  brilliant  sky. 

The  great  matter,  about  which  to  be  anxious,  is  not 
the  time,  nor  place,  nor  mode  of  the  change,  but  the 
fact  itself  Has  this  change  taken  place  in  you?  Are 
you  other  than  once  you  were?  Rather  than  be  what 
onco  you  were,  would  you  prefer  not  being  at  all  ? 
Would  you  prefer  annihilation  to  your  old  corruption  ? 
Some,  alas  !  change  to  the  worse,  giving  themselves  up 


MAN   CONVERTED  245 

to  jins,  whicli  once  they  would  have  bhished  to  men- 
tioiA.  Dead  to  all  sense  of  shame,  breaking  loose  from 
the  innocence  of  their  childhood,  casting  off  the  comely 
habits  and  pious  practices  of  a  paternal  home,  they 
plunge  into  excess  of  riot ;  and;  borne  on  by  the  im- 
petus they  have  acquired  in  the  descent,  like  one  run- 
ning down  hill  who  can  not  stop  although  he  would, 
when  they  reach  the  mouth  of  the  pit  they  are  borne 
over  into  perdition.  They  change,  but,  like  "Sedu- 
cers," they  "  wax  worse  and  worse."  The  night  grows 
darker  and  darker ;  the  edge  of  conscience  duller  and 
duller ;  the  process  of  petrifaction  goes  on  in  their 
heart,  till  it  acquires  the  hardness  of  stone ;  and,  wal- 
lowing in  the  mire  of  the  lowest  sensuality,  they  can 
make  a  boast  of  sins — sins,  in  regard  to  which,  on  the 
day  when  they  left  their  father's  roof,  with  his  blessing 
on  their  head,  and  a  mother's  warm  tears  on  their 
cheek,  they  would  have  said  with  feelings  of  indignant 
abhorrence — "Is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should  do 
such  a  thing."     "What  a  melancholy  change  ! 

In  blessed  and  beautiful  contrast  to  a  metamor- 
phosis so  sad,  has  the  change  in  you  taken  an  opposite 
direction  ?  Can  you  say,  I  am  not  what  once  I  was, — 
but  better,  godlier,  holier  !  Happy  are  you  !  Happy, 
although,  afraid  of  presumption,  and  in  the  blushing 
modesty  of  a  spiritual  childhood,  you  can  venture  no 
further  than  one  who  was  urged  to  say  whether  she 
had  been  converted  ?  How  modest,  yet  how  satisfac- 
tory her  reply  !  That,  she  answered,  I  cannot — that 
I  dare  not  say;  but  there  is  a  change  somewhere; 
either  I  am  changed,  or  the  world  is  changed.  If  you 
can  soy  so,  it  is  well.  Such  an  answer  leaves  no  room 
for  painful  doubts.  Our  little  child — watching  with 
curious  eye  the  apparent  motion  of  objects — calls  out 


246  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

in  ecstasy,  and  bids  us  see  how  hedge  and  house  are 
flying  past  our  carriage.  It  is  not  tliese  that  move, 
nor  is  it  the  fixed  and  firm  shore,  with  its  trees  and 
fields,  and  boats  at  anchor,  and  harbors  and  headlands, 
that  is  gliding  by  the  cabin  windows.  That  is  an  illu- 
Bion  of  the  eye.  The  motion  is  not  in  them  but  us. 
And  if  the  world  is  growing  less  in  your  eye,  it  shows 
that  you  are  retreating  from  it,  rising  above  it,  and 
ascending  in  the  arms  of  grace  to  higher  regions ;  and 
if  the  fashion  of  this  world,  to  our  eye,  seems  passing 
away,  it  is  because  we  ourselves  are  passing — passing 
and  pressing  on  in  the  way  to  heaven.  Sin  never 
changes.  And  if  what  was  once  lovely  looks  loath- 
some now — if  what  was  once  desired  is  detested  now, 
if  what  was  once  sought  we  now  shun  and  shrink 
from,  it  is  not  because  sin  is  changed,  but — blessed  be 
God,  and  praise  be  to  his  grace — we  are  changed. 
Our  eyes  are  opened ;  the  scales  have  dropt  from  them ; 
and  the  solution  of  the  problem  may  be  found  in  the 
blind  man's  answer — "  Whereas  I  wa  -,  blind,  now  I 


see." 


Cfje  Di^iirt  of  Stone. 

A  new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  witluc 
y  vj ;  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh.— 
EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  26. 

There  is  a  mine  of  sound  sense  in  the  adage  of  an 
old  divine,  ''seriousness  is  the  greatest  wisdom,  tem- 
perance the  most  efficient  physic,  and  a  good  con- 
science the  very  best  estate."  Early  habits  of  self- 
restraint,  total  abstinence  from  all  excess,  diligence  in 
business,  attention  to  our  duties,  and  that  tranquility 
of  mind  which  piety  breeds,  and  which  those  enjoy 
who  are  at  peace  with  God, — these,  we  confidently  af- 
firm, would  do  more  to  abate  disease  than  all  our 
phj^sicians.  much  more  to  feed  the  hungry,  and  clothe 
the  naked,  than  our  Poor  Laws  and  charitable  institu- 
tions, and  very  much  more  than  any  Acts  of  Parlia- 
ment to  promote  the  comforts  of  the  people,  and  pre- 
serve the  liberties  of  the  commonwealth.  The  older 
we  grow,  and  the  more  our  observation  enlarges,  the 
deeper  grows  our  conviction,  that  "godliness  is  profit- 
able unto  all  things,  having  promise  of  the  life  that 
now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come." 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  the  truth, 
which  it  was  ever  our  good  fortune  to  see,  presented 
itself  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  this  church.  A 
weary  day  had  passed  in  visiting  a  degraded  neigh- 
borhood. The  vscenes  were  sad,  sickening,  repulsive. 
Famine,   fever,  want,  squalid    nakedness,  moral    and 


218  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

physical  impurities,  drunkenness,  death,  and  the  devil 
were  all  reigning  there.  Those  only  who  have  known 
the  sickness  and  sinking  of  heart  which  the  miseries 
of  such  scenes  produce,  especially  when  aggravated  by 
a  close  and  foul  atmosphere,  can  imagine  the  gratifica- 
tion and  surprise  with  which,  on  opening  a  door,  we 
stepped  into  a  comfortable  apartment.  Its  white 
washed  walls  were  hung  round  with  prints;  the  furni 
Lure  shone  like  a  looking-glass ;  and  a  bright  fire  was 
dancing  merrily  over  a  clean  hearth-stone.  It  was  an 
oasis  in  the  desert.  And  we  well  remember,  ere  ques- 
tion was  asked  or  answered,  of  saying  to  ourselves. 
*'  Surely  the  fear  of  God  is  in  this  place  ;  this  must  be 
the  house  of  a  church-going  family."  It  proved  to  be 
so.  A  blind  man  dwelt  there.  It  was  a  home  where 
squalid  poverty  might  have  been  excused.  And 
from  it  we  carried  away  with  us  a  lively  sense  of  the 
temporal  advantages  of  piety;  and  felt  inclined  to 
chalk  these  words  on  the  blind  man's  door,  as  a  lesson 
to  his  neighbors — "  The  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wis 
dom;  and  to  depart  from  evil  is  understanding." 

Suppose — and  we  suppose  nothing  impossible,  nor 
in  coming  days  improbable,  for  the  promise  waits  ful- 
fillment, "  a  nation  shall  be  born  in  a  day  " — suppose, 
then,  that  in  the  plentitude  of  divine  grace,  God  should 
bend  an  eye  of  pity  on  the  wretched  inhabitants  of  our 
immediate  neighborhood,  and  pour  down  his  Spirit 
on  them  in  showers  from  heaven.  At  present,  with  a 
few  bright  exceptions,  they  are  the  votaries  and  vic- 
tims of  dissipation — I  say  votaries  and  victims,  be- 
cause vice  is  such  a  damning  thing,  that  he  who  begins 
by  ministering  at  her  altnr  always  ends  by  becoming 
the  sacrifice.  Around  us  thousands  live  who  never 
enter  a  house  of  God.    Their  children,  unless  they  are 


THE   HEART   OF   STONE.  249 

fortanate  enough  to  die  early,  are  reared  in  ignorance, 
vice,  and  crime ;  and  bj  habits  of  intemperance,  many 
of  them  have  reduced  themselves  to  pinching  hunger, 
ill-relieved  by  the  uncertain  supplies  of  charity,  and 
the  most  squalid  wretchedness.  Now,  suppose  that 
God  were  pleased  to  send  life  to  these  "  dry  bones," — 
hat  from  lip  to  lip,  and  house  to  house,  the  cry  were 
passing,  ''Oh,  sirs,  what  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?" — 
that  the  last  shilling  that  vice  had  left,  were  spent  for 
the  purchase  of  a  Bible ;  that,  like  water  by  men 
parched  in  the  desert,  and  dying  of  thirst,  God's  word 
v/ere  bought,  borrowed,  or  begged,  and  that,  rising  to 
the  summons  of  the  Sabbath  bell,  these  streets,  where 
only  a  solitary  worshiper  may  now  be  seen,  were 
filled  with  the  unaccustomed  spectacle  of  a  ragged 
crowd  pouring  into  the  houses  of  God; — how  soon 
would  their  common  aspect  change  ?  A  few  weeks, 
and  we  should  hardly  recognize  them. 

Save  these  picturesque  and  old-fashioned  tenements, 
the  blue  heavens  above,  that  rocky  citadel  with  its 
frowning  batteries,  yonder  noble  arm  of  the  sea,  and 
the  same  green  fields,  rich  valleys  and  romantic  crags, 
of  the  everlasting  hills  around  us,  all  old  things  else 
would  have  passed  away.  Prisons,  that  now  complain 
of  crowded  cells,  would  be  found  too  large ;  and  many 
churches,  cold  now  with  empty  pews,  would  be  found 
too  small.  The  smoldering  fever  would,  like  an  un- 
fed fire,  go  out  for  want  of  fuel ;  and  rank  church- 
yards would  grow  green  at  Christmas,  for  lack  of  their 
too-frequent  burials.  The  brutal  featui'es  of  dissipa 
tion  would  give  place  to  an  expression  of  intelligence 
and  humanity;  roses  would  blow  on  childhood's  pal- 
lid cheek,  and  mother's  smiles  would  chase  the  sadness 
from  many  a  poor,  sallow,  infont  face.     Then,  under 

11* 


250  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

the  patronage  of  religion,  and  the  sign  of  the  Bible, 
the  craft  of  the  honest  mechanic,  and  the  trade  of  the 
useful  merchant  would  flourish,  while  the  panderer  to 
vice  would  fall  into  unpitied  bankruptcy,  and  the  voice 
of  a  virtuous  people  would  tell  him  to  shut  shop  and 
begone.  Furniture  would  crowd  these  empty  rooms; 
the  rags,  through  whose  loopholes  poverty  stared  out 
upon  a  pitying  world,  would  change  into  decent  attire. 
Piety,  descending  like  an  angel  from  the  skies,  would 
come  to  these  dwellings  with  a  prophet's  blessing;  be- 
neath her  celestial  feet  happiness  would  spring  up 
like  summer  flowers ;  plenty  would  pour  her  horn  into 
the  lap  of  poverty;  there  would  be  meal  in  every 
household  barrel,  and  oil  in  every  widow's  cruse- 
Underneath  the  benign  and  blessed  influences  of  reli- 
gion, this  wilderness  would  be  glad ;  our  city  Ishmael- 
ites  would  change  into  Israelites,  and  these  moral  des- 
erts would  rejoice  and  blossom  like  the  rose.  "  Even 
so,  come,  Lord  Jesus ;  come  quickly." 

The  truth  is,  the  world's  great  want  is  the  want  of 
religion.  Perhaps  men  want  more  equal  laws,  more 
liberal  institutions,  and  through  their  happy  influence, 
better  and  more  stable  governments.  The  greatest 
want  of  nations  is,  however,  that  without  which  liberty 
has  no  solid  pedestal  to  stand  on — a  genuine,  mass- 
pervading  piety.  To  drop  all  reference  to  foreign 
countries,  I  am  sure  that  he  who  attempts  to  cure  our 
own  social  maladies,  independently  of  this  best  and 
most  sanatory  element,  may  be  a  philanthropist,  but 
is  not  a  philosopher.  We  had  almost  said  he  is  a  fool. 
He  is  an  idle  schemer,  who  would  fain  make  bricks 
without  straw,  and  heal  the  waters  of  Jericho  without 
the  prophet's  salt.  His  theories  are  as  baseless  and 
unsolid  as  if  they  conceived  of  man  as  a  creature 


THE   HEART   OF   STONE.  251 

without  a  soul — of  the  solar  system  as  without  it9 
central  sun — of  the  universe  without  its  God.  But 
while  religion  is  thus  the  mortar  that  binds  society 
together, — while  the  poor  man  may  remember  to  his 
comfort,  that  if  he  leave  his  family  no  inheritance  but 
his  prayers  and  the  priceless  legacy  of  a  godly  ex- 
ample, he  leaves  them  rich  indeed, — while  an  educa- 
tion of  domestic  piety  is  better  than  all  Greek  and 
Eoman  lore, — and  while  godliness  is  the  most  stable 
basis  on  which  to  erect  an  earthly  fortune, — I  pray 
you  to  observe  that  the  change  promised  in  the  text 
does  not  necessarily  imply  any  temporal  advantage — 
any  improvement  either  in  our  bodily  condition  or 
worldly  circumstances.  We  live  in  a  world  of  mj^s- 
teries.  We  sometimes  see  religion  languishing  neg- 
lected on  a  bed  of  sickness ;  and  piety,  in  other  cases 
than  that  of  Lazarus,  may  be  found  clad  in  rags  and 
covered  with  sores,  sitting  a  beggar  at  the  rich  man's 
gate.  The  change  is  on  the  man  within.  The  change 
is  on  the  tenant,  not  the  tenement ;  on  the  heart,  not 
the  body;  on  our  circumstances,  not  so  much  in  this 
life  as  in  the  life  to  come.  If  by  faith  in  Christ  you 
come  to  God,  I  can  not  promise  for  him  that  he  will 
pour  health  into  your  veins  or  money  into  your  purse. 
But  he  will  endow  you  with  infinitely  better  gifts. 
Hear  what  he  promises  in  the  text — "A  new  heart 
also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within 
you  ;  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your 
flesh,  and  I  will  give  you  an  heart  of  flesh." 

Having  already  illustrated  the  greatness  of  this 
change,  I  now  proceed  to  examine  its  nature;  and 
remark — 


252  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

I.  The  old  heart  is  taken  away,  and  a  new  one  put 
in  its  place. 

The  head  was  justly  considered  by  the  ancieuis  to 
be  the  residence  of  the  intellectual  faculties,  where  the 
soul  sat  enthroned,  as  in  a  palace — presiding  over  all. 
On  the  other  hand,  they  regarded  the  affections  as 
having  dwelling  in  the  heart — that  other  great  organ 
of  our  system.  Within  the  breast,  love  and  hatred, 
grief  and  joy,  aversion  and  desire,  generosity,  jealousy, 
pity,  revenge,  were  supposed  to  dwell ;  and  thus  ( to 
dismiss  the  metaphor),  that  substitution  of  one  heart 
for  another  which  is  promised  in  the  text,  just  implies 
an  entire  change  in  the  character  and  current  of  our 
affections.  Now,  a  change  may  be  simply  a  reform, 
or,  extending  farther,  it  may  pass  into  a  revolution. 
The  spiritual  change,  which  we  call  conversion,  is  not 
a  mere  reform.  It  is  a  revolution — a  mighty  revolu- 
tion, if  aught  was  ever  worthy  of  that  name — a  rev- 
olution greater  than  the  tomes  of  profane  history,  or 
any  old  monuments  of  stone  Or  of  brass  record.  It 
changes  the  heart,  the  habits,  the  eternal  destiny  of  an 
immortal  being.  On  the  banner,  borne  in  triumph  at 
the  head  of  this  movement,  I  read  the  words  that 
doom  old  things  to  ruin,  "Overturn,  Overturn,  Over- 
turn." For  the  old  mischievous  laws  which  it  repeals, 
it  introduces  a  new  code  of  statutes  ;  it  changes  the 
reigning  dynasty,  wrenches  the  scepter  from  a  usurper's 
hand,  and,  banishing  him  forth  of  the  kingdom,  in 
restoring  the  throne  to  God,  restores  it  to  its  rightful 
monarch. 

The  Gospel  is  indisputably  revolutionary; — there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  fact.  The  old  charge  brought 
against  its  preachers  is  true.  "  These  that  have 
turned  the  world  upside  down,  are  come  hither  also." 


THE  HEART   OF  STONE.  253 

The  world  requires  to  be  turned  upside  down.  Like 
a  boat  capsized  in  a  squall,  and  floating  keel  upper- 
most in  the  sea,  with  men  drowning  around  it,  the 
world  has  been  turned  upside  down  already  ;  and  to 
be  set  riglit,  it  must  just  be  turned  upside  down  again. 
If  the  order  wliich  God  established  has  been  reversed 
by  sin — if  in  our  hearts  and  habits  time  has  assumed 
the  pL'ice  of  eternity — the  body  of  the  soul — earth  of 
heaven,  and  self  of  God  ; — if  that  is  first  which  should 
be  last,  and  that  last  which  should  be  first, — if  that  is 
uppermost  which  should  be  undermost,  and  that  un- 
dermost which  should  be  uppermost,  then  happy  tho 
homes  and  the  hearts  of  which,  in  reference  to  the  en- 
trance of  God's  Word,  Spirit,  and  converting  grace, 
it  can  be  said,  "  These  that  have  turned  the  world 
upside  down,  are  come  hither  also." 

Where,  it  may  be  asked,  lies  the  inevitable  necessity 
for  a  change  so  pervadingly  elementary,  so  radical,  so 
revolutionary?  such  an  inward  and  total  change? 
We  must  seek  for  that  necessity  in  the  records  of  a 
distant  past.  It  lies  in  an  old  event — in  the  Fall. 
By  reason  of  that  great  crime  and  sad  calamity,  the 
condition  of  our  hearts  has  become  naturally  so  bad — 
in  reference  at  least  to  spiritual  objects  and  interests 
— as  not  to  admit  of  repair.  We  understand  how 
this  may  be  true  of  a  house.  The  tenement  may  have 
fallen  into  such  utter  decay,  so  many  cracks  may  gape 
in  its  bulged  and  tottering  walls,  the  timbers  may  be 
so  moth-eaten,  the  foundations  so  shaken,  post,  pillar, 
and  lintel  so  moldered  away,  that  nothing  remains 
but  to  pull  it  down  level  with  the  ground,  and  on  its 
old  site  to  erect  a  new  and  stately  edifice.  Or — to 
vary  the  illustration — a  watch,  which  has  slipped 
through  careless  fingers,  and  crashed  on  the  pavement. 


254  THE   GOSPEL   IX   EZEKIEL. 

may  be  so  shattered  as  to  have  its  works  damaged  be- 
yond repair.  It  passes  the  skill  of  the  most  accom- 
plished mechanic  to  mend  them.  He  must  clean  out 
the  shell,  take  away  the  old  works,  and  substitute  new 
machinerj^  In  that  case,  although  wheels,  axles, 
levers,  move  within  the  old  casements,  the  watch,  in 
jact,  is  new;  even  so,  when  converted,  although  there 
is  no  loss  of  personal  identity  suffered,  he  who  gets 
a  new  heart  becomes,  in  a  sense,  a  new  man :  to  use 
the  Apostle's  words,  "  He  is,  in  Christ,  a  new  creature." 
It  is  no  doubt  true  that  there  are  many,  and  some 
very  serious  injuries  which  admit  of  repair.  A  steady, 
honest,  enterprising  merchant  may  repair  a  bankrupt 
fortune;  a  sagacious  statesman  may  solder  a  broken 
crown ;  a  physician  may  patch  up  a  worn-out  constitu- 
tion ;  even  some  Mary  Magdalene,  returning  to  the 
paths  of  virtue,  may  repair  that  most  fragile  of  all 
things — a  woman's  character;  and,  with  time  and 
God's  grace  given  me,  I  will  undertake  to  heal  a  bro- 
ken heart.  In  the  divine  government  we  see  the 
most  remarkable  provision  made  for  the  reparation  of 
those  injuries  to  which  his  creatures  are  exposed. 
The  bark  grows  on  the  peeled  surface  of  an  old  elm 
or  oak,  so  as  in  time  to  obliterate  the  letters  that 
friendship  or  fond  love  has  carved.  From  the  lips  of 
the  gaping  wound  a  liquid  flesh  is  poured,  which,  re- 
ceiving nerves  and  blood-vessels  into  its  substance, 
solidifies,  and  at  length  fills  up  the  breach.  From  its 
shattered  surfaces,  the  broken  limb  discharges  a  fluid 
bone — a  living  cement — which,  growing  solid,  restores 
the  continuity  of  the  shaft,  and  gives  the  sufferer  a 
leg  or  arm,  strong  as  before.  In  some  of  the  low^r 
animals,  indeed,  this  power  of  reparation  is  equal  to 
t^e  task,  not  onlj^  of  repairing  a  broken,   but  of  even 


THE   HEART   OF   STONE.  255 

restoring  a  lost  member.  With  siicli  renovating 
powers  has  God  endowed  certain  creatures,  that,  if  by 
accident  or  otherwise,  the  writhing  worm,  for  example, 
is  divided,  the  headless  portion  not  only  survives  such 
a  formidable  lesion,  but,  strange  to  see !  produces  and 
puts  on  a  new  head  ;  and  offers  us  an  example  of  an- 
imal life,  which,  besides  being  fortified  against  the 
most  formidable  injuries,  is  actually  multiplied  by 
division — "  How  marvelous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God 
Almighty !" 

There  are  many  striking  and  very  interesting  anal- 
ogies between  grace  and  nature.  But  there  is  no 
analogy  between  these  cases  and  the  case  before  us. 
So  far  as  man's  natural  and  inherent  powers  are  con- 
cerned, his  heart  sustained  an  irreparable  injury  by 
the  Fall.  Sin  is  a  disease  which  our  constitution  has 
no  power  to  throw  off;  and  which  no  human  skill 
can  remove.  The  preacher  is  here  assisted  by  none 
of  that  "  healing  power  of  nature"  which  is  the  phy- 
sician's best  ally.  Not  only  so,  but  God  himself — - 
with  whom  in  a  sense  all  things  are  possible,  and  to 
whom  nothing  is  too  hard — does  not  attempt  its  re- 
pair. In  the  work  of  conversion,  it  is  not  an  old 
heart  which  is  to  be  mended,  but  a  new  one  which  is 
to  be  given.  In  any  attempt  to  patch  up  the  old  gar- 
ment, the  new  cloth  is  lost,  and  the  rent  gapes  but 
wider.  On  the  old,  frail,  musty  bottle,  heaven  wastes 
not  her  costly  wine.  The  truth  is,  man  does  not 
admit  of  being  repaired ;  and  the  more  we  become 
acquainted  with  our  hearts,  the  more  ready  shall  we 
be  to  describe  their  desperate  and  deplorable  condi- 
tion in  the  words  of  Holy  Scripture — "The  heart  is 
deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked," 
The  first  thing,  therefore,  which  you,  who  are  seeking 


256  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  have  need 
to  seek,  is  what  God  promises  in  the  text,  and  David 
pleads  for  in  this  prayer — "  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart, 
O  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me." 

Let  me  press  this  truth  upon  your  thoughtful  atten- 
tion. Mny  God  impress  it  upon  your  hearts!  A 
lively  and  profound  sense  of  it  is  of  the  highest  im- 
portance. To  feel  our  need  of  a  new  heart,  and  to 
feel  that  this  old  one  v/ill  not  mend  nor  make  better, 
is,  in  fact,  the  first  step  in  salvation;  and  the  deeper 
our  impression  of  the  reality  of  the  truth,  the  more 
diligently  shall  we  labor,  and  the  more  earnestly  shall 
we  pray  to  be  renewed  day  by  day.  It  is  a  Qonvic- 
tion  that  will  secure  our  cordial  assent  to  the  mem- 
orable saying,  with  which  one  of  England's  greatest 
men,  her  bravest  and  noblest  spirits,  closed  an  illus- 
trious career  on  the  scaffold  of  an  ungrateful  country. 
When  Sir  "Walter  Ealeigh  had  laid  his  head  upon  the 
block,  he  was  asked  by  the  executioner  whether  it  lay 
right.  Whereupon,  with  the  calmness  of  a  hero,  and 
the  faith  of  a  Christian  he  returned  an  answer — the 
power  of  which  we  all  shall  feel,  when  our  own  head 
is  tossing  and  turning  on  death's  uneasy  pillow — "  It 
matters  little,  my  friend,  how  the  head  lies,  provided 
the  heart  is  right." 

Now,  as  the  view  of  the  old  heart,  given  in  my 
text,  is  eminently  calculated,  with  the  divine  blessing, 
to  show  us  how  much  we  need  a  new  one,  let  us  con 
sider — 

11.  The  view  which  our  text  gives  of  the  natural 
heart. 

It  is  a  heart  of  stone.  ''  I  will  take  the  stony  heart 
out  of  your  flesh."     We  shall  best  understand  the 


THE    HEART   OF   STONE.  257 

meaning  of  tliis  figure,  in  its  application  to  the  licart, 
by  considering,  in  a  popular  point  of  vie\v,  some  of  the 
characteristic  properties  of  a  stone. 

A  stone  is  cold.  Coldness  is  characteristic  of  a  stone. 
The  lapidary,  using  his  tongue  to  test  the  temperature, 
can,  by  that  simple  means,  tell  whether  the  seeming 
jewel  is  paste,  or  a  real  gem;  and  when  our  eye  has 
been  deceived  by  the  skill  of  the  painter,  the  sense  of 
touch  has  informed  us,  that  what  seemed  marble  was 
only  wood.  It  is  a  common  saying,  "As  cold  as  a 
stone."  But  what  stone  so  cold  as  that  in  man's 
breast?  Cold  is  the  bed  of  the  houseless,  who  lies 
stretched  on  the  wintry  pavement,  and  cold  the  cell 
within  whose  dank  stone  walls  the  shivering  prisoner 
is  immured ;  but  colder  far  by  nature  is  this  heart  of 
ours  to  God  and  Christ.  We  are  born  lovers  of  pleas- 
ure rather  than  lovers  of  God.  God  is  not  an  object 
of  our  love,  nor  do  we  make  any  return  to  Jesus  for 
his  warm  and  fond  affection.  Blessed  Lord !  he  had 
many  a  cold  lodging  on  this  ungrateful  earth ;  his 
couch  was  oft  the  open  field,  where  his  locks  were  wet 
with  the  dews  of  night ;  drenched  with  the  spray  of 
the  sea,  and  the  lashing  rain,  his  weary  frame  found 
sleep  on  the  hard  benches  of  a  fisher's  boat;  yet 
on  these  he  lay  not  on  so  cold  a  bed  as  he  would 
find  in  the  dark,  dreary  chambers  of  an  unrenewed 
heart.  Sin  has  quenched  a  fire  that  once  burned 
bright  and  holy  there,  and  has  left  nothing  now  on 
that  chill  hearth,  but  embers  and  ashes — cold  as 
death.  "  The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God ;  is 
not  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be." 

A  stone  is  hard.  Fire  melts  w^ax,  but  not  stone; 
water  softens  clay,  but  not  stone ;  a  hammer  bends 
the  stubborn  iron,  but  not  stone.     Stone  resists  these 


^ 


258  THE  GOSPEL  IN  KZEKIEL. 

infltiences;  and,  emblem  of  a  heart  cruslied,  but  not 
sanctified  by  affliction,  it  may  be  shattered  into  frag- 
ments, or  ground  to  powder,  3^et  its  atoms  are  as  hard 
as  ever.  It  is  with  the  dust  of  diamonds  that  the 
diamond  is  cut.  We  have  stood  on  a  sea  rock,  when 
every  billow,  SAvung  on  by  the  tempest,  broke  against 
it  with  the  roar  of  artillery,  and  shot  up  a  shower  of 
snowy  spray ;  we  have  looked  to  the  crag,  on  whose 
bald  brows  the  storm  was  bursting,  and  wondered 
how  these  could  have  braved  for  so  many  thousand 
years  the  war  and  wear  of  elements ;  and  yet  there  is 
more  cause  to  be  surprised  at  what  a  man's  heart  will 
stand.  He  sits  in  the  church  under  a  series  of  affect- 
ing sermons, — or  a  succession  of  affecting  providences 
like  great  sea  waves  breaKing  over  him ;  and  he  is 
unshaken,  at  least  unaltered,  and  to  all  but  Divine 
grace  unalterable.  He  can  be  saved;  but  he  can  only 
be  saved,  because  there  is  nothing  impossible  to  God. 
Sitting  there,  so  hard,  so  cold,  he  reminds  us  of  a 
mountain  crag,  cut  by  nature's  fantastic  hand  into  the 
features  of  a  man,  which  looks  out  with  cold  and 
stony  eye  upon  the  gathering  tempest,  prepared,  as  it 
has  already  weathered  a  thousand  storms,  to  weather 
a  thousand  more. 

The  man  who  remains  unmoved  under  a  ministry 
of  mercy,  who  is  insensible  to  at  once  the  most  appall- 
ing and  appealing  lessons  of  providence,  who  fears  no 
more  than  a  rock  the  thunders  and  lightnings  that 
play  round  his  brow,  and  feels  no  more  than  a  rock 
the  influences  that  fall  like  summer  sunbeams  from 
the  fiice  and  cross  of  Jesus,  is  manifestly  beyond  all 
human  power.  I  would  despair  of  his  salvation,  but 
for  the  omnipotence  and  benevolence  of  God;  and, 
because  I  know  that  he,  who  of  the  stones  of  the  street 


THE   HEART   OF   STONE.  259 

could  raise  up  children  to  Abraham,  can  turn  that 
heart  of  stone  into  a  heart  of  flesh.  What  need  here 
of  the  Spirit  of  God!  Oh!  there  is  an  obstinacy,  an 
obduracy,  a  strength  of  resistance,  an  impenetrability 
to  imjDression  in  the  unconverted,  before  whicli  man, 
however  anxious  to  save,  is  utterly  powerless.  In 
dealing  with  such  a  case,  we  seem  to  hear  the  voice 
of  God  addressing  us  in  his  words  to  Job — "  Canst 
thou  draw  out  leviathan  with  a  hook  ?  or  his  tongue 
with  a  cord  which  thou  lettest  down  ?  Canst  thou  put 
a  hook  into  his  nose,  or  bore  his  jaw  through  with  a 
thorn  ?  Wilt  thou  take  him  for  a  servant  ?  Wilt 
thou  play  with  him  as  a  bird?  or  wilt  thou  bind  him 
for  thy  maidens?  His  scales  are  his  pride  ;  joined  one 
to  another  they  stick  together  that  they  cannot  be 
sundered.  His  eyes  are  like  the  eyelids  of  the  morn- 
ing. Out  of  his  mouth  go  burning  lamps,  and  sparks 
of  fire  leap  out.  The  sword  of  him  that  layeth  at  him 
can  not  hold ;  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  habergeon. 
He  esteemeth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as  rotten  wood. 
Darts  are  counted  as  stubble ;  he  laugheth  at  the 
shaking  of  a  spear.  He  raaketh  the  deep  to  boil  like 
a  pot ;  he  maketh  the  sea  like  a  pot  of  ointment ;  he 
maketh  a  path  to  shine  after  him ;  one  would  think 
the  deep  to  be  hoary.  His  heart  is  as  firm  as  a  stone, 
yea,  as  hard  as  a  piece  of  the  nether  mill-stone." 

A  stone  is  dead.  It  has  no  vitality,  no  feeling,  no 
power  of  motion.  It  lies  where  it  is  laid.  The  tomb- 
stone above  and  the  dead  man  below  undergo  no 
change,  other  than  that  both,  by  a  slower  or  speedier 
decay,  are  moldering  into  dust.  In  that  hall  of  nobles 
the  marble  forms  of  departed  greatness  look  down  un- 
moved upon  scenes  where  once  they  themselves  played 
a  distinguished  part,  and  are,  alike  unmoved,  whether 


260  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

tlicir  statesmanship  be  reviled  or  praised.  In  this 
statue — however  skillful  the  sculptor's  imitation — 
there  is  no  life ;  no  speech  breaks  from  these  mute 
lips;  the  Rmbs  seem  instinct  with  power,  yet  they 
never  leave  their  pedestal ;  no  fire  flashes  in  the  dull, 
gray  eyes,  nor  passions  burn  within  the  stony  breast. 
The  stone  is  deaf,  and  dumb,  and  dead.  In  grief's 
wild  and  frantic  outbursts  o.ffection  may  address  the 
the  form  of  one  deeply  loved,  and  for  ever  lamented. 
Speak  to  it,  it  returns  no  answer  ;  weep  to  it,  it  sheds 
no  tears  ;  image  of  a  lost  and  loved  one,  it  feels  not  the 
grief  that  itself  can  move.  Now,  how  many  sit  in  the 
house  of  God  as  unmoved  ?  Careless  as  mere  spec- 
tators who  have  no  concern  in  what  takes  place  before 
them,  they  take  no  interest  in  any  thing  that  was 
done  on  Calvary  !  Is  it  not  sad  to  think  that  more 
tears  are  shed  in  playhouses  than  in  churches  :  and 
that  by  those  who  call  themselves  Christians,  the  new 
novel  is  sought  more  eagerly,  and  devoured  more 
greedily  than  the  New  Testament  ?  What  a  deplor- 
able account  of  the  human  heart !  One  w^ould  think 
it  is  of  stones,  and  yet  it  is  of  living  men,  too  like, 
alas !  to  many  of  ourselves — these  words  are  spoken 
— "  Having  eyes,  they  see  not ;  having  ears,  they  heai 
not ;  neither  do  they  understand." 

We  have  described  a  stone  as  cold,  hard,  dead.  Is 
this,  some  may  ask,  a  fair  and  just  picture  of  the 
human  heart  ?  The  question  is  a  fair  one,  and  de- 
serves a  frank  answer.  I  should  hinder  a  cause  1 
desire  to  help,  and  do  injustice  to  divine  truth,  were  1 
to  answer  that  question  by  simply  affirming,  that  the 
picture  is  a  true  portrait  of  the  natural  heart  in  all  its 
sentiments  and  emotions.  Human  nature  is  bad 
enough  without  exaggerating  its  evils.     There  is  no 


THE   HEART   OF   STONE.  261 

need  to  exaggerate  them.  In  one  sense,  they  do  not 
admit  of  exaggeration.  And,  if  we  dared,  instead  of 
exaggerating,  we  should  be  happy  to  excuse  them, 
and  to  our  mother  nature,  render  the  kind  and  filial 
office  of  casting  a  cloak  upon  her  shame. 

We  know  as  well  as  others  do,  and  would  ever 
remember,  that  although  man  be  dead  to  gracious 
affections,  until  sin  has  had  "its  perfect  work,"  he  is 
not  dead  to  many  tender  and  lovely  emotions  of  na- 
ture. Many  beauties  are  lingering  about  this  ruin — 
the  engaging,  but  melancholy  vestiges  of  its  former 
glory.  We  freely  admit,  that,  so  far  as  regards  father 
and  mother,  wife  and  children,  brother  and  sister,  and 
the  beloved  friends  of  our  social  circles,  an  unrenewed 
heart  may  be  the  warm  nest  of  kindliest  affections. 
There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  that  the  Christian  will 
prove  the  best  father,  the  best  husband,  the  best  wife, 
the  best  master,  the  best  servant,  the  best  citizen,  the 
truest,  trustiest  friend.  Nay,  for  their  pith  and  truth, 
notwithstanding  their  homeliness,  I  will  venture  to 
quote  the  words  of  Rowland  Hill,  who  said,  "I  would 
give  nothing  for  the  Christianity  of  a  man  whose  very 
dog  and  cat  were  not  the  better  of  his  religion."  Still, 
it  is  no  treason  against  the  Gospel  to  believe  that  one, 
yet  unhappily  a  stranger  to  the  grace  of  God,  may  be 
endowed  with  many  most  pleasant  and  lovely  virtues. 

Away  among  the  rough  moors,  by  the  banks  ol 
tumbling  river,  or  the  skirts  of  green  wood,  or  on 
sloping  acclivity,  or  steep  hill-side,  we  have  gathered, 
remote  from  gardens  and  the  care  of  men,  bunches  ol 
wild  flowers,  which,  although  very  perishing,  were 
sxquisitely  beautiful,  and  steeped  in  fragrant  odors; 
and  such  as  these  are  some  men  and  women,  who  have 
never  yet  been   transplanted  from  a  state  of  nature 


262  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

into  a  state  of  grace.  There  is  no  sin  in  losing  them. 
In  the  young  ruler  who  declined  to  take  up  his  cross 
and  follow  Christ,  was  not  there  so  much  that  was 
amiable,  gentle,  lovely,  that  Jesus'  own  heart  was 
drawn  to  him?  It  is  said  that  he  "loved  him;"  and 
the  emotions  of  a  Saviour's  bosom  cannot  be  wronor 

o 

in  mine.  Nor  is  his  a  rare  phenomenon — a  solitary 
case.  We  have  seen  men  who  made  no  great  profess- 
ion of  religion,  who  certainly  were  not  pious,  but 
who  were  yet  so  kind,  tender,  affectionate,  generous, 
large-hearted,  and  open-handed,  that  it  was  impossible 
not  to  love  them.  Nature  never  asked  our  permission. 
Whether  we  would  or  not,  we  felt  drawn  to  them,  as 
Jesus  was  to  the  amiable  youth  who  refused  to  follow 
him.  And  as  we  have  rooted  up  from  the  moor  some 
w41d  flower  to  blow  and  shed  its  fragrance  in  a  sweeter 
than  its  native  home,  have  we  not  longed  to  do  the 
same  with  these  fine  specimens  of  the  natural  man  ? 
Transplanted  by  grace  into  the  garden  of  the  Lord, 
baptized  with  the  dews  of  heaven,  converted  to  the 
faith,  they  would  be  flowers  fit  to  form  a  wreath  for 
the  brow  that  men  wreathed  with  thorns.  I  am  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  that  I  have  kno\vn  some,  whom 
even  charity  could  not  reckon  among  true  Christians, 
who,  yet  in  point  of  natural  virtues,  put  Christians  to 
shame.  In  some  beautiful  traits  they  were  more  like 
Jesus  than  not  a  few  of  his  real  disciples. 

Let  there  be  no  mistake,  then ;  when  I  speak  of  the 
heart  as  a  stone,  I  am  looking  at  it  as  it  looks  on  God, 
a  Saviour,  salvation,  and  eternity.  However  distress- 
ing it  is  (and  it  is  most  distressing)  to  think  that  per- 
sons otherwise  most  lovely  and  of  most  loving  hearts 
are  so  cold  and  callous  to  the  claims  of  Jesus,  yet,  so 
far  as  divine  love  to  sinners,   and  so  far  as  the  kind- 


THE    HEART   OF   STONE.  263 

nesses  of  saving  mercy  are  concerned,  I  am  convinced 
that  among  the  rocks  which  beat  back  the  roaring  sea 
—up  in  the  crags  where  dews,  and  rain,  and  bright 
sunbeams  fall — down  in  earth's  darkest  and  deepest 
mines,  tliere  lies  bedded  no  stone  colder,  harder,  lens 
impressible,  more  impenetrable,  than  an  unrenewed 
heart.  Does  unbelief  suggest  the  question.  Why, 
then,  preach  to  the  unconverted  ?  as  well  preach  to 
stones?  as  well  knock  with  thy  hand  upon  a  door 
which  is  locked  on  a  cofiin  and  a  corpse?  In  a  sense, 
true  ;  and  altogether  true,  but  for  the  promise — "  Lo 
I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 
That  promise  is  the  soul  of  hope  and  the  life  of 
preaching.  It  forbids  despair.  And  should  coward 
ministers,  yielding  to  despair,  hold  their  tongues,  and 
pulpits  all  be  silent,  Christ  still  were  preached. 
Strange  evangelists  would  start  up  in  these  streets  to 
break  this  awful,  unbelieving  silence.  Asked  by  an 
envious  priesthood  to  silence  the  hosannas  of  the 
multitude,  Jesus  turned  on  them  and  said,  "  I  tell  you, 
that  if  these  should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would 
immediately  cry  out."  Thus  assured,  not  only  of  oui 
children,  not  only  of  our  people,  not  only  of  the  dead 
womb  of  Sarah,  but  of  the  very  stones  of  the  street, 
that  "  God  can  raise  up  children  toxibraham,"  despair 
we  cannot  feel,  and  dumb  we  cannot  be.  He  who 
shall  raise  the  dead  in  church-yards  can  waken  the 
dead  in  churches.  Therefore  we  expect  conversions 
and  in  hope  offer  Christ  to  the  chief  of  sinners,  be 
seeching  you,  "  Be  ye  reconciled  to  God." 


Clje 


fclu  irart. 


A  new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within 
you ;  and  I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  fiesh,  and 
I  will  give  you  an  heart  of  flesh. — Ezekiel  xxsvi.  26. 

As  in  a  machine  where  the  parts  all  fit  each  other, 
and,  bathed  in  oil,  move  without  din  or  discord,  the 
most  perfect  harmony  reigns  throughout  the  kingdom 
of  grace.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  *'  wisdom,"  as  well  as 
the  ''  power"  of  God ;  nor  in  this  kingdom  is  any 
thing  found  corresponding  to  the  anomalies  and  incon- 
gruities of  the  world  lying  without.  There  we  some- 
times see  a  high  station  disgraced  by  a  man  of  low 
habits  ;  while  others  are  doomed  to  an  inferior  condi- 
tion, who  would,  shine  like  gilded  ornaments  on  the 
very  pinnacles  of  society.  That  beautiful  congruity 
in  Christ's  kingdom  is  secured  b}^  those  who  are  the 
objects  of  saving  mercy  being  so  renewed  and  sancti- 
fied that  their  nature  is  in  harmony  with  their  position, 
and  the  man  within  corresponds  to  all  without. 

Observe  how  this  property  oi  new  runs  through  the 
whole  economy  of  grnce.  When  Mercy  first  rose 
upon  this  world,  an  attribute  of  Divinity  appeared 
which  was  new  to  the  eyes  of  men  and  angels.  Again, 
the  Saviour  was  born  of  a  virgin  ;  and  lie  who  came 
forth  from  a  womb  where  no  child  had  been  previously 
conceived,  was  sepulchred  in  a  tomb  where  no  man 
had  been  previously  interred.  The  Inf\\nt  had  a  new 
birth-place,    the   Crucified    had   a   new   burial-place. 


J 


THE   NEW   HEART.  265 

Again,  Jesus  is  tlie  mediator  of  a  new  covenant,  the 
author  of  a  new  testament,  the  founder  of  a  new  faith. 
Again,  the  redeemed  receive  a  new  name ;  they  sing 
a  new  song ;  their  home  is  not  to  be  in  the  Old,  but 
in  the  New  Jerusalem,  where  they  shall  dwell  on  a 
new  earth,  and  walk  in  glory  beneath  a  new  heaven. 
l!^ow  it  were  surely  strange,  when  all  things  else  are 
iiew,  if  they  themselves  were  not  to  partake  of  this 
general  renovation.  Nor  strange  only,  for  such  a 
change  is  indispensable.  A  new  name  without  a  new 
nature  were  an  imposture.  It  were  not  more  an  un- 
truth to  call  a  lion  a  lamb,  or  the  rapacious  vulture  by 
the  name  of  the  gentle  dove,  than  to  give  the  title  of 
sons  of  God  to  the  venomous  seed  of  the  Serpent. 

Then,  again,  unless  man  received  a  new  nature, 
how  could  he  sing  ihe  new  song?  The  raven,  perched 
on  the  rock,  where  she  whets  her  bloody  beak,  and 
impatiently  watches  the  dying  struggles  of  some  un- 
happy lamb,  cannot  tune  her  croaking  voice  to  the 
rich,  mellow  music  of  a  thrush  ;  and,  since  it  is  out 
of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  that  the  mcuth  speak- 
eth,  how  could  a  sinner  take  up  the  strain  and  sing 
the  song  of  saints  ?  Besides,  unless  a  man  were  a  new 
creature,  he  were  out  of  place  in  the  new  creation. 
In  circumstances  neither  adapted  to  his  nature,  nor 
fitted  to  minister  to  his  happiness,  a  sinner  in  heaven 
would  find  himself  as  much  out  of  his  element  as  a 
finny  inhabitant  of  the  deep,  or  a  sightless  burrower 
in  the  soil,  beside  an  eagle,  soaring  in  the  sky,  or  sur- 
veying her  wide  domain  from 'the  mountain  crag. 

In  the  works  of  God  we  see  nothing  more  beautiful 
than  the  divine  skill  with  which  he  suits  his  creatures 
to  their  condition.  He  gives  wings  to  birds,  fins  to 
fishes,  sails  to  the  thistle-seed,  a  lamp  to  light  the  glow- 

12 


266  THE   GOSPEL   IN"   EZEKIEL. 

worm,  great  roots  to  moor  the  cedar,  and  to  the  aspiring 
ivy  her  thousand  hands  to  climb  the  wall.  Nor  is  the 
wisdom  so  conspicuous  in  nature,  less  remarkable  and 
adorable  in  the  kingdom  of  grace.  He  forms  a  holy 
people  for  a  holy  heaven — fits  heaven  for  them,  and 
hem  for  heaven.  And  calling  up  his  Son  to  prepare 
the  mansions  for  their  tenants,  and  sending  down  his 
Spirit  to  prepare  the  tenants  for  their  mansions,  he 
thus  establishes  a  perfect  harmony  between  the  new 
creature  and  the  new  creation. 

You  cannot  have  two  hearts  beating  in  the  same 
bosom,  else  you  would  be,  not  a  man,  but  a  monster. 
Therefore,  the  very  first  thing  to  be  done,  in  order  to 
make  things  new,  is  just  to  take  that  which  is  old  out 
of  the  way.  And  the  taking  away  of  the  old  heart  is, 
after  all,  but  a  preparatory  process.  It  is  a  means,  but 
not  the  end.  For — strange  as  it  may  at  first  sound — 
he  is  not  religious  who  is  without  sin.  A  dead  man  is 
without  sin ;  and  he  is  sinless,  who  lies  buried  in  dream- 
less slumber,  so  long  as  his  eyes  are  sealed.  Now,  God 
requires  more  than  a  negative  religion.  Piety,  like 
fire,  light,  electricity,  magnetism,  is  an  active,  not  a 
passive  element;  it  has  a  positive,  not  merely  a  nega- 
tive existence.  For  how  is  pure  and  undefiled  religion 
defined  ?  ^'Pure  religion  and  undefiled  is  to  visit  the 
fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction."  And  on 
whom  does  Jesus  pronounce  his  beatitude  ?  "  If  ye 
know  these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them."  And 
what  is  the  sum  of  practical  piety — the  most  portable 
form  in  which  you  can  put  an  answer  to  Saul's  ques- 
tion, "Lord,  what  wouldst  thou  have  me  to  do?" 
What  but  this,  "Depart  from  evil,  and  do  good." 
Therefore,  while  God  promises  to  take  the  stony  heart 
out  of  our  flesh,  he  promises  more.     In  taking  away 


^      THE  NEM*  HEART.  267 

one  heart,  lie  engages  to  supply  tis  with  another ;  and 
to  this  further  change  and  onward  stage  in  the  process 
of  redemption,  I  now  proceed  to  turn  your  attention  : 
and,  by  way  of  general  observation,  I  remark-  - 

I.  Our  aflections  are  engaged  in  religion. 

An  oak — not  as  it  stands  choked  up  in  the  crowded 
wood,  with  room  neither  to  spread  nor  breathe,  but  as 
it  stands  in  the  open  field — swelling  out  below  where 
it  anchors  its  roots  in  the  ground,  and  swelling  out 
above  where  it  stretches  its  arms  into  the  air,  presents 
us  with  the  most  perfect  form  of  firmness,  self-support, 
stout  and  sturdy  independence.  So  perfectly  formed, 
indeed,  is  the  monarch  of  the  forest  to  stand  alone, 
and  fight  its  own  battles  with  the  elements,  that  the 
architect  of  the  Bell  Kock  Lighthouse  is  said  to  have 
borrowed  his  idea  of  its  form  from  God  in  nature,  and 
that,  copying  the  work  of  a  Divine  Architect,  he  took 
the  trunk  of  the  oak  as  the  model  of  a  building  which 
was  to  stand  the  blast  of  the  storm,  and  the  swell  of 
winter  seas. 

In  striking  contrast  with  this  tree,  there  are  plants 
— some  of  them  of  the  richest  perfume  and  fairest 
beauty — such  as  the  passion-flower,  the  ivy,  the  cle- 
matis, and  the  woodbine,  which  can  not  stand  alone. 
They  have  neither  pith  nor  fiber  to  maintain  them- 
selves erect. 

Yet  these  are  not  doomed  to  the  base  fate  of  being 
trodden  in  the  dust  by  the  hoof  of  every  passing  beast, 
and  have  their  beauty  soiled  in  the  mire.  Types  of 
one  whom  God  has  called  by  his  grace,  and  beautified 
with  salvation,  who  is  strong  in  weakness,  and  rises 
to  the  highest  honors  of  heaven,  these  plants  may 
overtop  the  tallest  oak^  and,  holding  on  by  the  ever* 


268  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEfillEL. 

lasting  rocks,  they  have  laughed  at  the  storm  whicli 
laid  his  proud  head  in  the  dust.  This  strength  they 
have,  and  these  honors  they  win,  by  help  of  the  ten- 
drils, the  arms,  those  instruments  of  attachment  with 
which  God  has  kindly  furnished  them.  These  plants 
are  formed  to  attach  themselves  to  other  objects ;  it  is 
their  nature  to  do  so.  If  they  get  hold  of  one  noble 
and  lofty,  they  rise  to  the  height  of  its  nobility ;  if  of 
a  mean  one — some  rotten  stake  or  shattered  wall — 
they  embrace  the*  ruin,  and,  like  a  true  friend,  share 
its  fate;  and  w^e  have  seen,  when  they  had  no  other 
object  on  which  to  fix  themselves,  how — like  a 
selfish  man,  who  is  the  object  of  his  own  affections, 
and  has  a  heart  no  bigger  than  his  coffin,  just  large 
enough  to  hold  himself — they  would  embrace  them- 
selves, and  lie  basely  on  the  ground  locked  in  forced 
embarrassment  in  their  own  arms. 

It  is  with  man  as  with  these.  What  their  tendrils 
are  to  them,  our  affections  are  to  us.  Ambition  aims 
at  independence ;  and  men  fancy,  that  when  they  have 
accumulated  such  or  such  a  fortune,  obtained  such  or 
such  a  place,  arrived  at  such  or  such  an  age,  they  shall 
be  independent.  Independent !  what  folly  !  man  was 
never  made  to  be  self-supporting,  and  self-satisfying. 
Even  when  his  home  was  Eden,  and  he  enjoyed  the 
full  favors  of  a  benignant  God,  the  Lord  said — "  It  is 
not  good  for  man  to  be  alone." 

We  are  constituted  with  affection?,  of  whicli  we  can 
no  more  divest  ourselves  than  of  our  skin.  Be  the 
object  which  we  love  noble  or  base,  good  or  bad, 
generous  or  selfish,  holy  or  sinfu],  belonging  to  earth 
or  to  heaven,  some  object  we  must  love.  It  v/ere  as 
easy  for  a  man  to  live  without  breathing,  as  to  live 
without  loving.     It  is  not  more  natural  for  fire  to  burn, 


THE   NEW   HEART.  26& 

or  light  to  shine,  than  for  man  to  love.  And  tho 
commandment,  "Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things 
that  are  in  the  world,"  had  been  utterly  impracticable, 
and  impossible,  save  in  conjunction  with  the  other 
commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind."  It  is  with 
man's  soul  as  with  this  plant  which  is  creeping  on  the 
earth ;  to  upbraid  it  for  its  baseness,  to  reproach  it  for 
the  mean  objects  around  which  its  tendrils  are  en- 
twined, will  never  make  it  stand  erect;  you  can  not 
raise  it  unless  you  present  some  lofty  object  to  which 
it  may  cling.  It  is  with  our  hearts  as  with  vessels ; 
you  can  not  empty  them  of  one  element  without  ad- 
mitting or  substituting  another  in  its  place.  And  just 
as  I  can  empty  a  vessel  filled  with  air  or  with  oil  by 
pouring  water  into  it,  because  water  is  the  heavier 
fluid,  or  as  I  can  empty  a  vessel  of  water  by  pouring 
quicksilver  into  it,  because  the  specific  gravity  of  mer- 
cury is  greatly  in  excess  of  that  of  water,  so  the  only 
way  by  which  you  can  empty  my  heart  of  the  worldj 
and  the  love  of  the  world,  is  by  filling  it  with  the  love 
of  God.  This  is  the  divine  process  and  science  of  the 
Gospel.  The  Gospel  is  accommodated  to  our  nature ; 
its  light  is  adapted  to  our  darkness ;  its  mercy  to  our 
misery ;  its  pardon  to  our  guilt ;  its  sanctification  to 
our  impurity  ;  its  comforts  to  our  griefs ;  and  in  sub- 
stituting the  love  of  Christ  for  the  love  of  sin,  in  giving 
us  an  object  to  love,  it  meets  our  constitution,  and 
satisfies  the  strongest  cravings  of  our  nature.  It  en- 
gages our  affections,  and,  in  taking  away  an  old  heart, 
supplies  its  place  with  a  new  one  and  a  better. 

II.  Consider  now  the  new  heart— "A  new  hearl 
also  will  I  give  you." 


270  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

We  Kave  said  enough  in  a  preceding  discourse  to 
show  that  we  are  not  to  look  for  evidence  of  the  new 
heart  in  the  natural  affections.  Religion  does  not  be- 
stow these.  We  are  born  with  them.  We  have  some 
of  them  in  common  with  the  brutes  that  perish ;  and 
they  may  be  found  flourishing  in  all  their  beauty  in 
those  who  are  strangers  to  the  love  of  God.  To  them, 
as  to  all  things  else,  indeed,  which  are  his  gifts,  sin  is 
antagonistic  and  injurious.  Let  sin  ripen,  so  as  to 
have  "  its  perfect  work,"  and  it  acts  like  a  cancer  on 
man's  best  affections.  It  first  indurates,  then  deadens, 
and  at  length  destroys.  Sinners  are  essentially  selfish ; 
and — as  we  see  exemplified  every  day — the  more  men 
grow  in  sin,  they  grow  the  more  heartless,  and  hesitate 
less  to  sacrifice  the  tenderest  feelings  and  best  in- 
terests of  others  to  their  own  base  and  brutal  gratifi- 
cations. There  is  a  picture  in  the  book  of  Romans, 
painted  by  the  hand  of  a  master,  which  is  more  ap- 
palling and  affecting  than  any  which  Roman  artists 
have  hung  on  the  walls  of  Rome.  Here  it  is,  a  full- 
length  portrait  of  sinners  drawn  by  the  hand  of  Paul, 
in  these  vivid  and  terrible  colors: — "God  gave  them 
over  to  a  reprobate  mind,  to  do  those  things  which  are 
not  convenient,  being  filled  with  all  unrighteousness, 
fornication,  wickedness,  covetousness,  maliciousness; 
full  of  envy,  murder,  debate,  deceit,  malignity ;  whis- 
perers, backbiters,  haters  of  God,  despiteful,  proud, 
boasters ;  inventors  of  evil  things,  disobedient  to  pa- 
rents, without  understanding,  covenant  breakers,  with- 
out natural  affection,  implacable,  unmerciful."  What 
a  dark  and  dreadful  picture  of  humanity !  Behold 
the  monster  into  which  sin,  when  fully  developed, 
turns  the  sweetest  child.     What  an  abominable  thing 


THE   NEW   HEART.  271 

is  sin  !  Like  God,  may  we  hate  it  with  a  perfect 
hatred ! 

Observe,  that  although  the  state  of  the  natural 
affections  does  not  furnish  any  certain  evidence  of  con- 
version, it  is  the  glory  of  piety  that  these  are  strength- 
ened, elevated,  sanctified  by  the  change.  The  lover 
of  God  will  be  the  kindest,  best,  wisest  lover  of  his 
fellow-creatures.  The  heart  that  has  room  in  it  for 
God,  grows  so  large,  that  it  finds  room  for  all  God's 
train,  for  all  that  he  loves,  and  for  all  that  he  has  made ; 
so  that  the  church,  with  all  its  denominations  of  true 
Christians,  the  world,  with  all  its  perishing  sinners, 
nay — all  the  worlds  which  he  has  created,  find  orbit- 
room  to  move,  as  in  an  expansive  universe,  within  the 
capacious  enlargement  of  a  believer's  heart.  For 
while  the  love  of  sin  acts  as  an  astringent — contract- 
ing the  dimensions  of  the  natural  heart,  shutting  and 
shriveling  it  up — the  love  of  God  expands  and  en- 
larges its  capacity.  Piety  quickens  the  pulse  of  love, 
warms  and  strengthens  our  heart,  and  sends  forth 
fuller  streams  of  natural  affection  toward  all  that  have 
a  claim  on  us,  just  as  a  strong  and  healthy  heart  sends 
tides  of  blood  along  the  elastic  arteries  to  every  ex- 
tremity of  the  body. 

This  new  heart,  however,  mainly  consists  in  a 
change  of  the  affections  as  they  regard  spiritual  ob- 
jects. Without  again  traveling  over  ground  which 
we  have  already  surveyed,  just  look  at  the  heart  and 
feelings  of  an  unconverted  man.  His  mind  being 
carnal,  is  enmity  or  hatred  against  God.  This  may  l)e 
latent — not  at  first  sight  apjiarent,  nor  suspected — bat 
how  soon  does  it  appear  when  put  to  the  proof?  Fair- 
ly tried,  it  comes  out  like  those  unseen  elements 
\vhich  chemical  tests  reveal.     L^t  God,  for  instance, 


272  THE   GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

by  his  providences  or  laws,  thwart  the  wishes  or  cross 
the  propensities  of  our  unrenewed  nature — let  tliere 
be  a  collision  between  His  will  and  ours — and  the 
latent  enmity  flashes  out  like  latent  fire  when  the  cold 
black  flint  is  struck  with  steel. 

The  Apostle  pronounces  men  to  be  by  nature  lovers 
of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God ;  and  is  it  not  a 
fact  that  the  services  of  religion  are  so  contrary  to  all 
our  natural  tastes,  that  we  are  prone  to  say  of  them, 
as  of  that  day  which  brings  down  heaven  to  earth — 
**  It  is  a  weariness;  when  will  it  be  over?"  The  af- 
fections of  the  natural  man  are  like  the  branches  of 
what  are  called  weeping  trees — they  droop  to  the 
earth,  and  sweep  the  ground ;  harmless  or  deleterious, 
they  are  all  directed  earthward.  This  world  is  his 
god ;  his  heaven  is  on  earth  ;  the  paradise  he  seeks  is 
here;  his  ten  commandments  are  the  opinions  of  men; 
his  sins  are  his  pleasures ;  his  prayers  are  a  task ;  his 
sabbaths  are  his  longest,  weariest  days  ;  and,  although 
no  sheeted  ghosts  rise  at  midnight  and  walk  the 
church-yard  to  scare  him,  he  has,  in  thoughts  of  God, 
of  judgment,  of  eternity,  specters  that  haunt  him,  and 
to  escape  from  which  he  will  fly  into  the  arms  of  sin. 

Now,  if  you  have  received  a  new  heart,  this  state  is 
past,  or  is  passing.  Your  affections  are  not  dried  or 
frozen  up ;  they  are  as  warm,  or  rather  warmer  than 
ever— still  flowing,  only  flowing  toward  different  ob- 
jects, and  in  a  different  channel.  In  obedience  to  a 
divine  impulse,  their  course  is  not  only  in  a  different, 
but  in  a  contrary  direction ;  for  the  grace  of  God  works 
such  a  comj)lete  change  of  feeling,  that  what  was  once 
hated  you  now  love,  and  what  was  once  loved  you 
now  loathe ;  you  fly  from  what  once  you  courted,  and 
pursue  what  you  once  shunned. 


THE-  NEW  HEAET.  273 

For  example.  Did  you  not  once,  like  Adam  in  the 
garden,  hide  yourself  from  God  ?  Like  Jacob,  when 
about  to  encounter  an  angry  brother,  did  you  not  once 
tremble  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  God  ?  How  did 
you  fret  under  the  yoke  of  his  law  ?  In  those  who 
bore  his  image,  how  did  you  revile,  and  shun,  and 
hate  him  ?  You  could  not  banish  him  from  the  uni 
verse,  but  how  did  you  try  to  banish  the  thought  of 
him  from  your  thoughts,  and  so  put  him  and  keep  him 
out  of  your  mind,  that  it  might  be  that  black,  cold, 
empty,  dark,  dead,  atheistic  spot  of  this  creation,  where 
God  should  not  be  ?  Believers !  Oh  what  a  blessed 
revolution  has  grace  wrought?  Praise  ye  the  Lord. 
Although  our  attainments  come  far  short  of  David's, 
and  the  love  of  our  bosoms  may  burn  with  a  dimmer 
and  feebler  flame,  and  we  should  therefore  perhaps 
pitch  the  expression  of  our  feelings  on  a  lower  key, 
let  the  Psalmist  express  for  us  the  language  of  a  re- 
newed heart — "  Oh  how  love  I  thy  law  !  it  is  my  med- 
itation all  the  day.  Thy  testimonies  are  better  to  me 
than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver.  Like  as  the  hart 
panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul 
after  thee,  0  God.  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the 
living  God.  When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before 
God.  One  thing  have  I  desired  of  the  Lord,  that 
will  I  seek  after,  that  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of 
the  Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life.  I  love  the  Lord 
because  he  hath  heard  my  prayer  and  the  voice  of  my 
supplication.  Bless  the  Lord,  ye  his  angels,  that  ex- 
cel in  strength.  Bless  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  hosts. 
Bless  the  Lord,  all  his  works.  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my 
soul.  Let  every  thing  that  hath  breath  praise  the 
Lord.     Praise  ye  the  Lord." 

12* 


274  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

IIL  In  conversion  God  gives  a  new  spirit. 

Conversion  does  not  bestow  new  faculties.  It  doea 
not  turn  a  weak  man  into  a  philosopher.  Yet,  along 
with  our  affections,  the  temper,  the  will,  the  judgment 
partake  of  this  great  and  holy  change.  Thus,  while 
the  heart  ceases  to  be  dead,  the  head,  illuminated  by 
a  light  within,  ceases  to  be  dark;  the  understanding 
is  enlightened  ;  the  will  is  renewed ;  and  our  whole 
temper  is  sweetened  and  sanctified  by  the  Spirit  of 
God.     To  consider  these  in  their  order,  I  remark — 

By  tim  change  the  understanding  and  judgment  are 
mlightened.  Sin  is  the  greatest  folly,  and  the  sinner 
the  greatest  fool  in  the  world.  There  is  no  such  mad- 
ness in  the  most  fitful  lunacy.  Think  of  a  man  risk- 
ing eternity  and  his  everlasting  happiness  on  the  un- 
certain chance  of  surviving  another  year.  Think  of 
a  man  purchasing  a  momentary  pleasure  at  the  cost 
of  endless  pain.  Think  of  a  dying  man  living  as  if 
he  were  never  to  die.  Is  there  a  convert  to  God  who 
looks  back  upon  his  unconverted  state,  and  does  not 
say  with  David,  "Lord,  I  was  as  a  beast  before 
thee." 

Now  conversion  not  only  restores  God  to  the  heart, 
but  reason  also  to  her  throne.  Time  and  eternity  are 
now  seen  in  their  just  proportions — in  their  right  rel- 
ative dimensions ;  the  one  in  its  littleness,  and  the 
other  in  its  greatness.  When  the  light  of  heaven  rises 
on  the  soul,  what  grand  discoveries  does  she  make — 
of  the  exceeding  evil  of  sin,  of  the  holiness  of  the  di- 
vine law,  of  the  infinite  purity  of  divine  justice,  of  the 
grace  and  greatness  of  divine  love.  On  Sinai's  summit 
and  on  Calvary's  cross,  what  new,  sublime,  affecting 
scenes  open  on  her  astonished  eyes  I     She  now,  as  by 


THE   NEW    HEART.  276 

ocie  "iO^xTo^sWt  bound,  leaps  to  the  conclusion  that 
salv,  vion  is  the  one  thing  needful,  and  that  if  a  man 
will  ^ivo  all  he  hath  for  the  life  that  now  is,  much 
more  should  he  part  with  all  for  the  life  to  come.  The 
Saviour  and  Satan,  the  soul  and  body,  holiness  and  sin, 
have  competing  claims.  Between  these  reason  now 
holds  the  balance  even,  and  man  finds,  in  the  visit 
of  converting  grace,  what  the  demoniac  found  in  Je- 
sus' advent.  The  man  whose  dwelling  was  among  the 
tombs,  whom  no  chains  could  bind,  is  seated  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus,   "  clothed,  and  in  his  right  mindy 

By  this  change  the  ivill  is  renewed.  Bad  men  are 
worse,  and  good  men  are  better  than  they  appear.  In 
conversion  the  will  i^  so  changed  and  sanctified,  that 
although  a  pious  man  is  in  some  respects  less,  in  other 
respects  he  is  more  holy  than  the  world  gives  him 
credit  for.  The  attainments  of  a  believer  are  always 
beneath  his  aims;  his  desires  are  nobler  than  his 
deeds;  his  wishes  are  holier  than  his  works.  Give 
other  men  their  will— full  swing  to  their  passions — and 
they  would  be  worse  than  they  are ;  give  that  to  him, 
and  he  would  be  better  than  he  is.  And  if  you  have 
experienced  the  gracious  change,  it  will  be  your  daily 
grief  that  you  are  not  what  you  not  only  know  you 
should  be,  but  what  you  wish  to  be.  To  be  complain- 
ing with  Paul,  "When  I  would  do  good,  evil  is 
present  with  me ;  that  which  I  would  I  do  not,  and 
what  I  would  not,  that  I  do,"  is  one  of  the  best  evi- 
dences of  a  gracious,  saving  change. 

Children  of  God !  let  not  your  souls  be  cast  down. 
This  struggle  between  the  new  will  and  the  old  man — 
painful  and  prolonged  although  it  be — proves  beyond 
all  doubt  the  advent  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Until  the 
Saviour   appeared   there  v/as   no  sword   drawn,   nor 


276  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

olood  shed  in  Bethlehem,  nor  murderous  decree 
issued  against  its  innocents — they  slept  safely  in  their 
mothers'  bosoms,  Herod  enjoyed  his  security  and  pleas 
ure,  and  Kachel  rose  not  from  her  grave  to  weep  for 
her  children  because  they  were  not.  Christ's  coming 
rouses  all  the  devil  in  the  soul.  The  fruits  of  holy 
peace  are  reaped  with  swords  on  the  fields  of  war; 
and  this  struggle  within  your  breast  proves  that  grace, 
even  in  its  infancy  a  cradled  Saviour,  is  engaged  in 
strangling  the  old  Serpent.  When  the  shadow  of 
calamity  falls  on  many  homes,  and  the  tidings  of  vic- 
tory come  with  sad  news  to  many  a  family,  and  the 
brave  are  lying  thick  in  the  deadly  breach,  men  com- 
fort us  by  saying,  that  there  are  things  worse  than 
war.  That  is  emphatically  true  of  this  holy  war. 
Bejoice  that  the  peace  of  death  is  gone. 

By  conversion  the  temper  and  disposition  are  changed 
and  sanctified.  Christians  are  occasionally  to  be  found 
with  a  tone  of  mind  and  a  temper  as  little  calculated  to 
recommend  their  faith  as  to  promote  their  happiness. 
I  believe  that  there  are  cases  in  which  this  is  due  to  a 
deranged  condition  of  the  nervous  system,  or  the 
presence  of  disease  in  some  other  vital  organ.  These 
unhappy  persons  are  more  deserving  of  our  pity  than 
our  censure.  This  is  not  only  the  judgment  of  Chris- 
tian charity,  but  of  sound  philosophy,  and  is  a  conclu- 
sion to  which  we  are  conducted  in  studying  the  union 
between  mind  and  body,  and  the  manner  in  which 
they  act  and  re- act  upon  each  other.  So  long  as  grace 
dwells  in  a  "  vile  body,"  which  is  the  seat  of  frequent 
disorder  and  many  diseases — these  infirmities  of  tern-  • 
per  admit  no  more,  perhaps,  of  being  entirely  removed, 
than  a  defect  of  speech,  or  any  physical  deformity. 
The  good  temper  for  which  some  take  credit,  may  be 


THE   NEW    HEART.  277 

the  result  of  good  health  and  a  well  developed  frame 
— a  physical  more  than  a  moral  virtue ;  and  an  ill 
temper,  springing  from  bad  health,  or  an  imperfect 
organization,  may  be  a  physical  rather  than  a  moral 
defect — giving  its  victim  a  claim  on  our  charity  and 
forbearance.  But,  admitting  this  apology  for  the  un- 
happy  tone  and  temper  of  some  pious  men,  the  true 
Christian  will  bitterly  bewail  his  defect,  and,  regret- 
ting his  infirmity  more  than  others  do  a  deformity,  he 
will  carefully  guard  and  earnestly  pray  against  it. 
Considering  it  as  a  thorn  in  his  flesh,  a  messenger  of 
Satan  sent  to  buffet  him,  it  will  often  send  him  to  his 
knees  in  prayer  to  God,  that  the  grace  which  conquers 
nature  may  be  made  "sufficient  for  him." 

Those,  however,  who  have  no  such  plea  to  urge  in 
palliation  of  a  suspicious,  sour,  discontented,  irritable 
temperament,  have  good  ground  to  suspect  their  Chris- 
tianity. Grace  sweetens  where  it  sanctifies.  In  the 
name  of  God  and  Christianity,  what  has  Christ  to  do 
with  Belial  ?  What  has  grace  to  do  with  that  ava- 
ricious, envious,  malignant,  implacable  disposition, 
which  is  utterly  opposed  to  the  genius  of  the  Gospel 
and  the  Spirit  that  was  in  Jesus  Christ?  Am  I  told 
that  his  disciples  sought  fire  from  heaven  to  consume 
their  enemies?  Am  I  told  that,  with  the  intolerance 
of  bigotry,  and  a  narrowness  of  mind  still  too  common, 
they  thought  to  silence  those  whom  they  regarded  as 
rivals  ?  Am  I  told  that,  set  on  fire  of  an  earthly  am- 
bition, they  blazed  out  into  unseemly  quarrels  with 
each  other  ?  Am  I  told  that,  even  on  the  solemn  eve 
of  a  Saviour's  sufferings,  when  their  tears  should  have 
quenched  all  unhallowed  fires,  they  strove  for  the 
highest  place  in  the  kingdom?  Am  I  told  how 
harshly  they  silenced  the  cries,  and  rebuked  the  im 


278  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

portunity  of  suffering,  and  liow  bauglitilj  these  proud 
fishermen  bore  themselves  to  the  mothers  and  babes 
of  Israel  ?  True  ;  but  this  temper  passed  away.  Their 
Master  cast  out  the  unclean  spirit.  Pentecost  baptized 
them  with  another  nature.  With  the  peace  of  Jesus 
they  received  his  gentle,  generous,  gracious,  loving, 
forbearing,  forgiving  temper.  These  Elishas  entered 
on  their  work  clothed  in  the  mantle  of  their  ascended 
Master.  Had  it  been  otherwise — had  they  not  been 
made  of  love,  as  well  as  messengers  of  love — had  the 
love  they  preached  not  breathed  in  every  tone,  and 
beamed  in  every  look — had  they  not  illustrated  in 
their  practice  the  genius  of  the  Gospel,  their  mission 
had  been  a  signal  failure ;  they  had  never  opened  the 
hearts  of  men  ;  they  had  never  made  their  way  in  a 
resistant  world — never  conquered  it.  Just  as  it  is  not 
with  stubborn  but  pliant  iron  that  locks  are  picked, 
the  hearts  of  sinners  are  to  be  opened  only  by  those 
who  bring  a  Christ-like  gentleness  to  the  work :  and 
who  are  ready,  with  Paul's  large,  loving,  kind,  and 
generous  disposition,  to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  if  so 
be  that  they  may  win  some.  Never  had  the  disciples 
gone  forth  "conquering  and  to  conquer,"  had  they 
brought  their  old  bigoted,  quarrelsome,  unsanctified 
temper  to  the  mission.  They  might  have  died  for 
Christianity,  but  she  had  died  w^ith  them  ;  and,  bound 
to  their  stake,  and  expiring  in  their  ashes,  she  had 
been  entombed  in  the  sepulcher  of  her  first  and  last 
apostles. 

I  pray  you  to  cultivate  the  temper  that  was  in  Jesus 
Christ.  Is  he  like  a  follower  of  the  Lamb  who  is 
raging  like  a  roaring  lion  ?  Is  he  like  a  pardoned  crim- 
inal who  sits  moping  with  a  cloud  upon  his  brow  ? 
Is  he  like  an  heir  of  heaven,  like  a  man  destined  to  a 


THE   NEW   HEART.  279 

crowri;  who  is  vexed  and  fretted  with  some  petty  loss? 
Is  he  hke  one  in  whose  bosom  the  Dove  of  heaven  is 
nestling,  who  is  full  of  all  manner  of  bile  and  bitter- 
ness? Oh,  let  the  same  mind  be  in  you  that  was  in 
Jesus.  A  kind,  catholic,  gentle,  loving  temper  is  one 
of  the  most  winning  features  of  religion  ;  and  by  its 
silent  and  softening  influence  3^ou  will  do  more  real 
service  to  Christianity  than  by  the  loudest  professions, 
or  the  exhibition  of  a  cold  and  skeleton  orthodoxy. 
Let  it  appear  in  you,  that  it  is  with  the  believer  under 
the  influences  of  the  Spirit  as  with  fruit  ripened  be- 
neath the  genial  influences  of  heaven's  dews  and 
sunbeams.  At  first  hard,  it  grows  soft ;  at  first  sour, 
it  becomes  sweet;  at  first  green,  it  assumes  in  time  a 
rich  and  mellow  color ;  at  first  adhering  tenaciously 
to  the  tree,  when  it  becomes  ripe,  it  is  ready  to  drop 
at  the  slightest  touch.  So  with  the  man  who  is  ripen- 
ing for  heaven.  His  affections  and  temper  grow  sweet, 
soft,  mellow,  loose  from  earth  and  earthly  things.  He 
comes  away  readily  to  the  hand  of  death,  and  leaves 
the  world  without  a  wrench. 

IV.  In  conversion  God  gives  a  heart  of  flesh.     "  I 
will  give  you  a  heart  of  flesh." 

Near  by  a  stone — a  mass  of  rock  that  had  fallen 
from  the  overhanging  crag — Avhich  had  some  wild 
flowers  growing  in  its  fissures,  and  on  its  top  the  fox- 
glove, with  its  spike  of  beautiful  but  deadly  flowers, 
we  once  came  upon  an  adder  as  it  lay  in  ribbon  coil, 
basking  on  the  sunny  ground.  At  our  approach  the 
reptile  stirred,  uncoiled  itself,  and  raising  its  venom- 
ous head,  with  eyes  like  burning  coals,  it  shook  its 
cloven  tongue,  and,  hissing,  gave  signs  of  battle.  At 
tacked,  it  retreated ;  and,  making  for  that  gray  stone, 


280  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKiEL. 

wormed  itself  into  a  hole  in  its  side.  Its  nest  and 
home  were  there.  And  in  looking  on  that  shattered 
rock — fallen  from  its  primeval  elevation — with  its 
flowery  but  fatal  charms,  the  home  and  nest  of  the 
adder,  where  nothing  grew  but  poisoned  beauty,  and 
nothing  dwelt  but  a  poisoned  brood,  it  seemed  to  us 
an  emblem  of  that  heart  which  the  text  describes  as 
a  stone,  which  experience  proves  is  a  habitation  of 
devils,  and  which  the  prophet  pronounces  to  be  despe- 
rately wicked.  I  have  already  explained  why  the 
heart  is  described  as  a  stone.  It  is  cold  as  a  stone  ; 
hard  as  a  stone  ;vdead  and  insensible  as  a  stone.  IS'ow, 
as  by  the  term  "  flesh"  we  understand  qualities  the  very 
opposite  of  these,  I  therefore  remark  that — 

In  conversion  a  man  gets  a  warm  heart. 

Let  us  restrict  ourselves  to  a  single  example.  When 
faith  receives  the  Saviour,  how  does  the  heart  warm 
to  Jesus  Christ !  There  is  music  in  his  name.  "  His 
name  is  as  an  ointment  poured  forth."  All  the  old 
indifference  to  his  cause,  his  people,  and  the  interests 
of  his  kingdom,  has  passed  away  ;  and  now  these  have 
the  warmest  place  in  a  believer's  bosom,  and  are  the 
objects  of  its  strongest  and  tenderest  affections.  The 
only  place,  alas  !  that  religion  has  in  the  hearts  of 
many  is  a  burial-place  ;  but  the  believer  can  say  with 
Paul,  "  Christ  liveth  in  me."  Kor  is  his  heart  like  the 
cottage  of  Bethany,  favored  only  with  occasional 
visits.  Jesus  abides  there  in  the  double  character  of 
guest  and  master — its  most  loving  and  best  loved  in- 
mate ;  and  there  is  a  difference  as  great  between  that- 
heart  as  it  is,  and  that  heart  as  it  was,  as  between  the 
warm  bosom  where  the  Infant  slept  or  smiled  in  Mary's 


THE   NEW   HEART.  281 

arms  and  the  dark,  cold  sepulcber  where  weeping  fol- 
lowers laid  and  left  the  Crucified. 

Is  there  such  a  heart  in  you  ?  Do  you  appreciate 
Christ's  matchless  excellences?  Having  cast  away 
every  sin  to  embrace  him,  do  you  set  him  above  your 
chiefest  joy  ?  Would  you  leave  father,  mother,  wife, 
children,  to  follow  him,  with  bleeding  feet,  over  life's 
roughest  path  ?  Kather  than  part  with  him,  would  you 
part  with  a  thousand  worlds  ?  Were  he  now  on  earth, 
would  you  leave  a  throne  to  stoop  and  tie  his  latchet? 
If  I  might  so  speak,  would  you  be  proud  to  carry  his 
shoes  ?  Then,  indeed,  you  have  got  the  new,  warm 
heart  of  flesh.  The  new  love  of  Christ,  and  the  old 
love  of  the  world,  may  still  meet  in  opposing  currents  ; 
but  in  the  war  and  strife  of  these  antagonistic  princi- 
ples, the  celestial  shall  overpower  the  terrestrial,  as,  at 
the  river's  mouth,  I  have  seen  the  ocean  tide,  when  it 
came  rolling  in  with  a  thousand  billows  at  its  back, 
lill  all  the  channel,  carry  all  before  its  conquering 
swell,  dam  up  the  fresh  water  of  the  land,  and  drive 
it  back  with  resistless  power. 

Ill  conversion  a  man  gets  a  soft  heart. 

As  "  flesh,"  it  is  soft  and  sensitive.  It  is  flesh,  and 
can  be  wounded  or  healed.  It  is  flesh,  and  feels  alike 
the  kiss  of  kindness  and  the  rod  of  correction.  It  is 
flesh ;  and  no  longer  a  stone,  hard,  obdurate,  impene- 
trable to  the  genial  influences  of  heaven.  A  hard 
block  of  ice,  it  has  yielded  to  the  beams  of  the  sun, 
and  been  melted  into  flowing  water.  How  are  you 
moved  now,  stirred  now,  quickened  now,  sanctified 
now,  by  truths  once  felt  no  more  than  dews  falling  out 
of  starry  heavens,  in  soft  silence,   upon  rugged  rock. 


282  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

The  heart  of  grace  is  endowed  with  a  dehcate  seiisi 
bilitj,  and  vibrates  to  the  slightest  touch  of  a  Saviour's 
fingers.  How  does  the  truth  of  God  affect  it  now  ! 
A  stone  no  longer,  it  melts  under  the  heavenly  fire — 
a  stone  no  longer,  it  bends  beneath  the  hammer  of  the 
word  ;  no  longer  like  the  rugged  rock,  on  which  rains 
and  sunbeams  were  v/asted,  it  receives  the  impression 
of  God's  power,  and  retains  the  footprints  of  his  pres- 
ence. Like  the  flowers  that  close  their  eyes  at  night, 
but  waken  at  the  voice  of  morning,  like  the  earth  that 
gapes  in  summer  drought,  the  new  heart  opens  to  re- 
ceive the  bounties  of  grace  and  the  gifts  of  heaven. 
Have  you  experienced  such  a  change  ?  In  proof  and 
evidence  of  its  reality,  is  David's  language  yours — "  I 
have  stretched  out  my  hands  unto  thee.  My  soul 
thirsteth  after  thee  as  a  thirsty  land?" 

In  conversion  a  man  gets  a  living  heart. 

The  perfection  of  this  life  is  death — it  is  to  be  dead 
to  sin,  but  alive  to  righteousness,  alive  to  Christ,  alive 
to  every  thing  which  touches  his  honor,  and  crown, 
and  kingdom.  AVitli  Christ  living  in  his  heart,  the 
believer  feels  that  now  he  is  not  himself — not  his 
own  ;  and,  as  another's,  the  grand  object  of  his  life  is 
to  live  to  Christ.  He  reckons  him  an  object  worth 
living  for,  had  he  a  thousand  lives  to  live ;  worth 
dying  for,  had  he  a  thousand  deaths  to  die.  He  says 
with  Paul,  ''I  am  crucified  with  Christ,  nevertheless 
I  live."  In  the  highest  sense  alive,  he  is  dead — dead 
to  things  he  was  once  alive  to  ;  and  he  wishes  that  he 
were  more  dead  to  them — thoroughly  dead.  He 
wishes  that  he  could  look  on  the  sedactions  of  the 
world,   and  sin's  voluptuous  charms,  with  the  cold, 


THE   NEW   HEART.  283 

unmoved  stare  of  death,  and  that  these  had  no  more 
power  to  kindle  a  desire  in  him,  than  in  the  icj  bosom 
of  a  corpse.  "  Understandest  thou  what  thou  read- 
est?" 

It  is  a  mark  of  grace,  that  the  believer,  in  his  pro- 
gress heavenward,  grows  more  and  more  alive  to  tlie 
claims  of  Jesus.  If  you  "know  the  love  of  Christ," 
his  is  the  latest  name  you  will  desire  to  utter ;  his  is 
the  latest  thought  you  will  desire  to  form  ;  upon  Ilim 
you  will  fix  your  last  look  on  earth  ;  upon  Him  your 
first  in  heaven.  When  memory  is  oblivious  of  all 
other  objects, — when  all  that  attracted  the  natural  eye 
is  wrapped  in  the  mists  of  death, — when  the  tongue  is 
cleaving  to  the  roof  of  our  mouth,  and  speech  is  gone, 
and  sight  is  gone,  and  hearing  gone,  and  the  right 
hand,  lying  powerless  by  our  side,  has  lost  its  cun- 
ning, Jesus  !  then  may  we  remember  Thee !  If  the 
shadows  of  death  are  to  be  thrown  in  deepest  darkness 
on  the  valley,  when  we  are  passing  along  it  to  glory, 
may  it  be  ours  to  die  like  that  saint,  beside  whose  bed 
wife  and  children  once  stood,  weeping  over  the  wreck 
of  faded  faculties,  and  a  blank,  departed  memory. 
One  had  asked  him,  "  Father,  do  you  remember  me  ?" 
and  received  no  answer;  and  another,  and  another, 
but  still  no  answer.  And  then,  all  making  way  for 
the  venerable  companion  of  a  long  and  loving  pilgrim 
age — the  tender  partner  of  many  a  past  joy  and  sor- 
row— his  wife,  draws  near.  She  bends  over  him,  and 
as  her  tears  fall  thick  upon  his  fi^ce,  she  cries,  "  Do 
you  not  remember  me?"  A  stare — but  it  is  vacant. 
There  is  no  soul  in  that  filmy  -eye ;  and  the  seal  of 
death  lies  upon  these  lips.  The  sun  is  down,  and  life's 
brief  twilight  is  darkening  fast  into  a  starless  night. 


28-i  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

At  this  moment  one,  calm  enough  to  remember  how 
the  love  of  Christ's  spouse  is  "strong  as  death" — a 
love  that  "  many  waters  cannot  quench" — stooped  to 
his  ear,  and  said,  "Do  you  remember  Jesus  Christ?" 
The  word  was  no  sooner  uttered  than  it  seemed  to 
recall  the  spirit,  hovering  for  a  moment,  ere  it  took 
wing  to  heaven.  Touched  as  by  an  electric  influence, 
the  heart  beat  once  more  to  the  name  of  Jesus ;  the 
features,  fixed  in  death,  relax ;  the  countenance,  dark 
in  death,  flushes  up  like  the  last  gleam  of  day ;  and, 
with  a  smile  in  which  the  soul  passed  away  to  glory, 
he  replied,  "  Eemember  Jesus  Christ !  dear  Jesus 
Christ!  he  is  all  my  salvation,  and  all  my  desire." 

IV.  By  conversion  man  is  ennobled. 

Infidelity  regards  man  as  little  better  than  an  ani- 
mated statue,  living  clay,  a  superior  animal.  She  sees 
no  jewel  of  immortality  flashing  in  this  earthly  casket. 
According  to  her,  our  future  being  is  a  brilliant  but 
baseless  dream  of  the  present ;  death,  an  everlasting 
sleep  ;  and  that  dark,  low,  loathsome  grave  our  eter- 
nal sepulcher. 

Vice,  again,  looks  on  man  as  an  animal  formed  for 
the  indulgence  of  brutal  appetites.  She  sees  no 
divinity  in  his  intellect,  nor  pure  feelings,  nor  lofty 
aspirations  worthy  of  cultivation  for  the  coming  state. 
Her  foul  finger  never  points  him  to  the  skies.  She 
leaves  powers  and  feelings  which  might  have  been 
trained  to  heaven  to  trail  upon  the  ground ;  to  be 
soiled  and  trodden  in  the  mire,  or  to  entwine  them 
selves  around  the  basest  objects.  In  virtuous  shame, 
in  modesty,  purity,  integrity,  gentleness,  natural  affec- 
tion, she  blights  with  her  poisonous  breath  whatever 


THE  NEW  HEART.  285 

vestiges  of  beauty  have  survived  the  Fall ;  aud  when 
she  has  done  her  perfect  work,  she  leaves  man  a  wreck 
a  wretch,  an  object  of  loathing,  not  only  to  God  and 
angels,  but — lowest  and  deepest  of  all  degradation — an 
object  of  contempt  and  loathing  to  himself. 

"While  infidelity  regards  man  as  a  mere  animal,  to 
be  dissolved  at  death  into  ashes  and  air,  and  vice 
changes  man  into  a  brute  or  devil,  Mammon  enslaves 
him.  She  makes  him  a  serf,  and  condemns  him  to  be 
a  gold-digger  for  life  in  the  mines.  She  puts  her  col- 
lar on  his  neck,  and  locks  it ;  and  bending  his  head  to 
the  soil,  and  bathing  his  brow  in  sweat,  she  says.  Toil, 
Toil,  Toil !  as  if  this  creature,  originally  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  this  dethroned  and  exiled  monarch,  to 
save  whom  the  Son  of  God  descended  from  the  skies, 
and  bled  on  Calvary,  were  a  living  machine,  construct- 
ed of  sinew,  bone,  and  muscle,  and  made  for  no  higher 
end  than  to  work  to  live,  and  live  to  work. 

Contrast  with  these  the  benign  aspect  in  which  the 
Gospel  looks  on  man.  Keligion  descends  from  heaven 
to  break  our  chains.  She  alone  raises  me  from  degra- 
dation, and  bids  me  lift  my  drooping  head,  and  look 
up  to  heaven.  Yes  ;  it  is  that  very  Gospel  which  by 
some  is  supposed  to  present  such  dark,  degrading, 
gloomy  views  of  man  and  his  destiny,  which  lifts  me 
from  the  dust  and  the  dung-hill  to  set  me  among 
princes — on  a  level  with  angels — in  a  sense  above 
them.  To  say  nothing  of  the  divine  nobility  grace 
imparts  to  a  soul  which  is  stamped  anew  with  the 
likeness  and  image  of  God,  how  sacred  and  venerable 
does  even  this  body  appear  in  the  eye  of  piety  I  No 
longer  a  form  of  animated  dust ;  no  longer  the  sub- 
ject of  passions  shared  in  common  with  the  brutes ; 


2-8G  THE   GOSPEL    IX   EZEKIEL. 

no  longer  tlie  drudge  and  slave  of  Mammon,  the  onco 
"  vile  body"  rises  into  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Yile  in  one  sense  it  may  be ;  yet  what,  although  it  be 
covered  with  sores  ?  what,  although  it  be  clothed  in 
rags?  what,  although,  in  unseemly  decrepitude,  it 
want  its  fair  proportions?  that  poor,  pale,  sickly,  shat- 
tered form  is  the  casket  of  a  precious  jewel.  This 
mean  and  crumbling  tabernacle  lodges  a  guest  nobler 
than  palaces  may  boast  of;  angels  hover  around  its 
walls  ;  the  Spirit  of  God  dwells  within  it.  What  an 
incentive  to  holiness,  to  purity  of  life  and  conduct, 
lies  in  the  fact  that  the  body  of  a  saint  is  the  temple 
of  God  1 — a  truer,  nobler  temple  than  that  which  Sol- 
omon dedicated  by  his  prayers,  and  Jesus  consecrated 
by  his  presence.  In  Popish  cathedral,  where  the  light 
streamed  through  painted  window,  and  the  organ 
pealed  along  lofty  aisles,  and  candles  gleamed  on 
golden  cups  and  silver  crosses,  and  incense  floated  in 
fragrant  clouds,  we  have  seen  the  blinded  worshiper 
uncover  his  head,  di'op  reverently  on  his  knees,  and 
raise  his  awe-struck  eye  on  the  imposing  spectacle ; 
we  have  seen  him  kiss  the  marble  floor,  and  knew 
that  sooner  would  he  be  smitten  dead  upon  that  floor 
than  be  guilty  of  defiling  it.  How  does  this  devotee 
rebuke  us!  We  wonder  at  his  superstition;  how  may 
he  wonder  at  our  profanity !  Can  we  look  on  th  * 
lowly  veneration  he  expresses  for  an  edifice  which  has- 
been  erected  by  some  dead  man's  genius,  which  holds 
])ut  some  image  of  a  deified  Virgin,  or  bones  of  a 
canonized  saint,  and  which — proudly  as  it  laises  its 
cathedral  towers — time  shall  one  day  cast  to  the 
ground,  and  bury  in  the  dust ;  can  we,  I  say,  look  on 
that,  and,  if  sensible  to  rebuke,  not  feel  reproved  by 


THE   NEW    HEART.  287 

the  spectacle?  In  liow  much  more  respect,  in  how 
much  holier  veneration  should  we  hold  this  body  ? 
The  shrine  of  immortality,  and  a  temple  dedicated  to 
the  Son  of  God,  it  is  consecrated  by  the  presence  of  the 
Spirit — a  living  temple,  over  whose  porch  the  eye  ol 
piety  reads  what  the  finger  of  inspiration  has  written 
— "  If  any  man  defile  the  temple  of  God,  him  shall 
God  destroy;  for  the  temple  of  God  is  holy,  vrhich 
temple  ye  are." 


€l}t   li  ni  a  ir  ii  t  c  r. 

And   I  -will  put  my  spirit  ^vithin  you. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  27. 

"  There  are  three  that  bear  record  in  heaven  :  the 
Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Gliost."  They  form 
the  mystery  of  one  Godhead,  and  act  in  harmony.  As 
might  be  expected,  the  divine  record  represents  these 
three  Persons  as  all  connected  with,  and  co-operating 
in  creation.  With  the  honors  of  a  work,  usually 
ascribed  to  the  Father,  Paul  crowns  the  Son.  Mark 
what  he  says  of  the  Son — "  By  him  were  all  things 
created,  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that  are  in  earth, 
whether  they  be  thrones  or  dominions,  or  principali- 
ties or  powders;"  and  speaking  elsewhere  of  God,  he 
says — "He,  who  at  sundry  times,  and  in  divers  man- 
ners spake  to  our  fathers  by  the  prophets,  hath  in  these 
last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son,  w^hom  he  hath 
appointed  heir  of  all  things,  by  whom  also  he  made 
the  worlds."  Now,  as  to  the  third  person,  or  Holy 
Spirit,  we  discover  indications  of  his  existence  even  in 
the  Mosaic  record  of  creation.  He  appears  in  tho 
earliest  epochs  of  time,  and  amid  those  sublime  and 
magnificent  spectacles  with  which  the  Bible  opens. 

The  curtain  rises  upon  the  first  act  of  creating 
power,  and,  through  the  enveloping  shroud  of  dark- 
nes55,  we  see  the  earth — a  shapeless  mass,  crude  and 
chaotic.  It  is  a  world  in  embryo.  "  The  earth  was 
without  form  and  void."  Yet  at  this  early  perioa, 
when   there  was  neither  golden  cloud  nor  blue  sky, 


THE    RENOVATOR.  289 

nor  green  land,  nor  silver  sea;  when  no  wii^cs  broke 
upon  the  shore,  and  there  were  no  shore.^  for  waves 
to  break  on  ;  when  no  mountains  rose  (.o  greet  the 
morning  sun,  and  there  was  no  sun  fo  shine  on 
tliem  ;  when  no  wing  of  bird  was  clenviiig  the  silent 
lir,  nor  fin  of  fish  the  waters;  when  — like  the  rude 
and  various  materials  from  which  aa  architect  intends 
to  rear  the  fabric  he  has  designed—  the  elements  of 
fire,  air,  earth,  and  water,  lay  minglec5  in  strange  con- 
fusion, through  the  darkness  that  li'\-s  on  the  face  of 
the  deep,  we  discover  some  mighty  presence.  He  is 
moving  and  at  work.  It  is  the  .'^-f-'rit  of  God.  Ho 
presides  at  the  birth  of  time.  Hl  is  evoking  order 
from  confusion,  forming  the  world  in  the  womb  of 
eternity  and  preparing  a  theater  for  scenes  and  events 
of  surpassing  grandeur.  Concerning  that  early  period 
of  creation,  Moses  has  recorded  this  important  fact — 
'The  Spirit  of  God  moved  on  tho  face  of  the  waters." 
En  this  glorious  creation,  therefi>re — in  this  beautiful 
world,  and  the  starry  skies  that  rose  over  it — we  be- 
hold the  mighty  monuments  of  hw  presence  and  power. 
He  sprung  the  arch  of  this  crystal  dome,  and  studded 
it  over  with  these  gems  of  light.  Listen  to  the  mag- 
nificent hymn  of  the  Patriarch—  ''  He  stretcheth  out 
the  north  over  the  empty  place,  and  hangeth  the 
earth  upon  nothing.  He  holdeth  back  the  face  of  his 
throne,  and  spreadeth  his  cloud  upon  it;  he  hath 
compassed  the  waters  with  bounds,  and  divideth  the 
sea  with  his  power.  By  his  Spirit  he  hath  garnished 
the  heavens."  In  the  temple  of  nature,  therefore,  as 
in  that  of  grace,  we  adore  a  Godhead — the  Three  in 
One;  and  see  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  the  pre- 
siding and  co-equal  authors  of  a  first  creation. 

But  let  us  come  to  man.     The  pillar  is  finished,  and 
13 


290  THE    GOSPEL   IN"   EZEKIEL. 

wants  notliing  but  its  capital ;  tlie  house,  built   and 
furnished,  now  waits  its  tenant.     He  is  about  to  be 
formed  who  is  to  be  not  merely  a  work,  nor  a  servant, 
but  a  son  of  God ;  a  mirror  in  whieh  Divinity  may 
complacently  contemplate  itself;  a  being  who  is  to 
exhibit  what,  amid  their  bright  and  beautiful  forms, 
neither  sun,  nor  sea,   nor  earth   could  boast  of — an 
image  of  God.     The  crown  of  creation  is  to  be  topped 
with  its  brightest  gem.     This  province  of  the  divine 
empire  is  to  be  provided  with  a  king,  who,  wielding 
a  delegated  scepter,   shall  exercise  dominion   "over 
the  fish  of  the  sea,  the  fowls  of  the  air,*  the  cattle,  and 
the  creeping  things."     It  is  a  great  occasion.     And, 
as  was  worthy  of  it,  the  three  persons  of  the  Godhead 
appear.     God  fashions  the  plastic  clay  into  the  form 
of  man,   and  molds  those  features  which,   given  by 
his  hand,  have  descended  to  us ; — bending  over  the 
prostrate  and  inanimate  statue,   he  breathes  into  its 
hollow  nostrils  the  element  of  life ;  rushing  in,  this 
mysterious  power  sets  its  organs  into  play,  and,  as  the 
heart  begins  to  beat,  and  the  current  of  the  blood  to 
flow,  man  opens  his  eyes  in  life  and  on  the  world ; 
but,  ere  this  crowning  act — ere,  by  this  greatest  act 
he  closes  the  drama  of  creation — addressing  the  Son 
on  this  hand  and  the   Spirit  upon  that,  the  Father 
saith,  "Let  us  make  man  in  our  image." 

In  many  respects,  the  new  creation  corresponds 
with  that  old  one — the  Paradise  Eegained  with  the 
Paradise  Lost.  Man  is  the  .subject  of  both;  his  good 
and  the  divine  glory  are  the  ends  of  both ;  devils  are 
the  enemies,  and  angels  are  the  allies  of  both ;  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  are  the  authors  of  both. 
Now  while  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis — raising  a  por- 
tion of  the  vail  which  hangs  upon  the  mysteries  of 


THE   RENOVATOR.  291 

creation — shows  us  the  Holy  Spirit  as  an  active  agent 
in  that  work,  my  text  introduces  the  same  divine 
person,  as  discharging  functions  as  important  in  the 
more  exalted  and  enduring  work  of  a  new  creation. 
The  Father  decrees  redemption  ;  the  Son  procures  it; 
the  Holy  Spirit  applies  it.  For  that  purpose  thia 
promise  is  both  given  and  fulfilled — "  I  will  put  my 
Spirit  within  you."  In  illustration  of  the  doctrine,  1 
remark — 

I.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  the  great  agent  in  conversion 
and  sanctification. 

Man  cannot  be  saved  unless  elected,  nor  elected 
without  the  Father ;  nor  saved  unless  redeemed,  nor 
redeemed  without  the  Son ;  nor  saved  unless  con- 
verted, nor  converted  without  the  Spirit.  Do  you 
ask  why?  Is  there  not  a  fountain  opened  to  the 
house  of  David,  and  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem, 
for  sin  and  for  uncleanness  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  who- 
soever seeks  salvation  there,  may  wash  and  shall  be 
clean?  Most  true.  Jesus  has  filled  that  fountain 
with  blood,  and,  once  bathed  there^  the  foulest  become 
white  as  snow.  Blessed  truth  !  that  fountain  is  free  to 
aW;  free  as  air,  free  as  light,  free  as  the  waves  of 
ocean,  where  man,  who  parcels  out  God's  earth,  and 
forbids  other  foot  than  his  own  to  tread  on  it,  claims 
no  exclusive  property — where  the  beggar  may  go  in 
to  bathe  abreast  of  a  king. 

What  need  I  more,  then  ?  you  may  ask.  We  re- 
quire much  more.  Our  necessities  are  those  of  the 
cripple — of  that  man  who,  for  thirty  years,  sat  un- 
cured  by  Bethesda's  pool,  nor  took  his  anxious  eye  off 
the  water  as  he  waited  for  its  first  stir  and  ruffle.  The 
healing  of  that  pool  was  regulated  by  a  law,  and  it 


292  THE   GOSPEL  IN   EZEKIEL. 

was  this.  Like  an  electric  battery,  which  to  one  and 
the  first  touch  discharges  all  its  fluid,  this  pool  cured 
but  one  at  a  time,  and  he  got  its  benefit  who  first  step- 
ped in  after  the  angel's  descent.  Whatever  his  disease 
might  be,  he  was  cured.  Was  he  dumb  ?  he  sung. 
Was  he  lame  ?  he  leaped.  Was  he  a  cripple  ?  he 
.shouldered  his  crutch,  and  walked.  And  why  had 
this  man  sat  out  these  weary  years  unhealed?  Had 
the  vision  tarried,  and  was  it  the  rare  advent  of  the 
angel  to  this  pool  which  suggested  the  figure,  "  Like 
angels'  visits,  few  and  far  between  ?"  Had  these  wa- 
ters not  been  agitated  at  all  for  that  long  period  of 
thirty  years  ?  Often.  Many  a  time  this  cripple  had 
seen  the  sudden  spring,  and  heard  the  loud  plunge,  as 
some  neighbor  flashed  into  the  water ;  and  as  the  cured 
left  the  scene,  many  a  time  had  he  followed  them  with 
envious  eyes.  Many  a  time  had  he  witnessed  proofs 
of  the  healing  power — the  lame  man  bounding  away 
like  a  deer,  the  song  of  the  dumb  ringing  out  his  joy, 
and  pallid  sickness  standing  on  the  brim  of  the  glassy 
pool,  and — as  she  contemplated  herself  in  its  mirror-  - 
smiling  to  see  the  light  of  her  beaming  eyes,  and  fresh 
roses  blooming  upon  her  wasted  cheek*  Poor  man  I 
why  was  he  not  cured  as  well  as  others  ?  He  was  iifi- 
potent,  powerless  ;  he  could  not  go  down  unassisted  ; 
and — one  of  the  friendless  poor,  as  he  told  Jesus — "  he 
had  no  one  to  help  him  in."  Even  so,  although  seat- 
ed by  the  fountain,  whei^e  sins  are  lost  and  sinners 
washed,  we  need  some  one,  so  to  speak,  to  help  us  in. 
In  the  words  of  Paul,  we  are  "  without  strength;"  and 
it  is  to  help  us  to  seek,  to  believe  in,  to  love— in  one 
word,  to  embrace  the  Saviour — that  God  puts  his 
Spirit  within  us.     For  this  end  he  fulfills  the  promise 


THE   KENOYATOR.  293 

'*  My  grace  shall  be  sufficient  for  thee,  and  my  strength 
made  perfect  in  weakness." 

In  a  preceding  discourse,  we  compared  the  change 
wrought  in  conversion  to  the  removal  of  old,  shattered 
machinery,  and  the  supplying  of  its  place  with  a  new 
mechanism.  But  what  is  mere  machinery?  Just 
what  the  new  heart  were  without  the  Spirit  of  God 
Besides  the  machinery,  we  must  have  a  moving  power. 
Of  what  use  would  be  the  machinery  which  is  to  be 
moved,  without  a  force  adequate  to  move  it?  Without 
a  main-spring  within  the  clock,  however  complete  all 
its  wheels,  pinions,  pivots,  and  axles,  these  hands 
would  stand  on  the  face  of  time,  nor  advance  one  step 
over  the  numbered  hours.  So  were  it  with  the  re- 
newed soul  without  the  Spirit  of  God  to  set  its  powers 
in  motion,  bring  them  into  play,  and  impart  to  them 
a  true  and  heavenward  character.  For  this  purpose 
God  fulfills  the  promise,  ''  I  will  put  my  Spirit  with- 
in you." 

In  order  to  illustrate  this,  and  with  God's  blessing 
fix  it  in  your  heart,  let  me  avail  myself  of  the  ele- 
ment which  gives  a  name  to  the  Spirit,  and  which  our 
Saviour  selects  as  his  emblem — "  The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof, 
but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  nor  whither  it 
goeth,  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit." 

Here  is  a  noble  ship :  what  further  does  she  need 
to  move  her?  Her  masts  are  all  in;  and  her  canvas 
is  all  shaken  out ;  yet  no  ripple  runs  by  her  side,  nor 
foam  flashes  from  her  bows,  and  she  has  no  motion  but 
what  she  receives  from  the  alternate  swell  and  sink- 
ing of  the  wave.  Her  machinery  is  complete.  The 
forests  have  masted  her ;  in  many  a  broad  yard  of 
canvas  a  hundred  looms  have  cjiven  her  winp^s ;  her 


294  THE   GOSPKL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

anchor  has  been  weighed  to  the  rude  sea  chant; 
the  needle  trembles  on  her  deck;  with  his  eve  on 
that  friend — unlike  worldly  friends — as  true  in  storm 
as  in  calm,  the  helmsman  stands  impatient  by  the 
wheel ;  and  when,  as  men  bound  to  a  distant  shore, 
the  crew  have  said  farewell  to  wives  and  children, 
why  lies  she  there  over  the  self-same  ground — ris- 
ing with  the  flowing,  and  falling  with  the  ebbing 
tide?  The  cause  is  plain.  They  want  a  wind  to 
raise  that  drooping  pennon,  and  fill  these  empty  sails. 
They  look  to  heaven — and  so  they  may — the  sk^ss 
only  can  help  them  here.  At  length  their  prayer 
is  heard ;  the  pennon  flutters  at  the  mast  head ; 
spirits  of  the  air  sing  aloft  upon  the  yards ;  the  sails 
swell;  the  wind  whistles  through  the  rattling  cord- 
age ;  and  now,  like  a  steed,  touched  by  the  rider's 
spur,  she  starts,  bounds  forward,  plunges  through 
the  waves,  and — heaven's  wind  her  moving  power — 
she  is  off,  and  away,  amid  blessings  and  prayers,  to 
the  land  she  is  bound  and  chartered  for.  Even  so, 
although  heaven-born,  heaven-called,  heaven-bound, 
endowed  with  a  new  heart,  new  mind,  new  will,  we 
stand  in  the  same  need  of  celestial  influences — of 
the  grace  and  Spirit  of  God.  That  heart,  mind,  and 
will,  are  the  machinery,  he  is  the  moving  power ; 
these  the  instruments,  and  he  the  agent. 

This  heavenly  gift  neither  circumscribes  nor  super- 
sedes our  own  exertions.  These  gracious  influences 
descend  not  to  set  us  idle,  any  more  than  the  breeze 
blows  to  send  the  sailor  to  his  hammock  and  rock 
him  over  in  the  arms  of  sleep.  On  the  contrary, 
long  away,  and  wearying  to  be  home,  his  eye  often 
turned  homeward  across  the  water's  waste,  he  shakes 
out  every  jSLvd  of  canvas  ou  the  bending  mast,  and 


THE   RENOVATOR. 


295 


worKs  the  harder  to  gain  the  full  advantage  of  pro- 
pitious winds.  It  should  be  so  with  us.  May  it  be 
so  with  us !  The  more  full  tlie  gifts  and  divine 
breathings  of  the  Spirit,  the  busier  let  us  be— busier 
in  the  use  of  prayer,  of  sacraments,  of  the  Bible, 
and  of  all  those  ordinances  through  which  the  Spirit 
works,  and  impels  souls  onward  and  homeward  in  a 
heavenly  course. 

Were  God,  provoked  by  our  indifference,  to  with- 
draw or    withhold  his    Spirit,   would  it  not  be  with 
the  best  of  us  as  in  a  dead  calm  at   sea?     No  pro- 
gress would  be,  or  could  be  made;    or  rather,  with 
the  run  of  the  tide  against  us— the  tendencies  of  a 
depraved    nature    and  a  wicked  world  working  the 
other  way — instead  of  gaining  ground,  we  should  lose 
the  ground  already    gained,  and    drift    astern.     The 
Bible  says,  "  Kemember  Lot's  wife."     Here  we  say, 
Remember    David.     With  what  full  sail  he  is  bear- 
ing on  to  heaven!    how    far    ahead  he  has  shot  of 
his  countrymen  and  contemporaries  !     But  he  enters 
into    temptation;    yields   to    it;    falls    into  sin;    the 
Spirit  is  withdrawn,  and,  although  finally  saved,  how 
nearly  is  he  lost!     What  a  fearful  backsliding!  what 
an  awful  warning!    and,  yet— an  example  most  en- 
couraging to    a    penitent   backslider— see    how   God 
fulfills  the  promise,  "  I  will  heal  thy  backsliding  and 
love  thee  freely." 

Let  me  now  urge  on  you  the  advantage  and  duty 
of  improving  to  the  utmost  every  season  of  heavenly 
visitation.  There  are  seasons  more  favorable  and  full 
of  grace  than  others.  In  lliis  there  is  nothing  sur- 
prising, but  much  that  is  in  harmony  with  the  common 
dispensations  of  Providence.  Does  not  the  success 
of  the   fiirmer,   seaman,   merchant,   of  men   in    many 


296  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

other  circumstances,  cliiefly  depend  on  their  f,eizirig 
opportunities,  which  come  and  go  like  showers — which 
flow  and  ebb  like  the  tides  of  ocean?  The  sea  is  not 
always  full.  Twice  a  day  she  deserts  her  shores,  and 
leaves  the  vessels  high  and  dry  upon  the  beach ;  so 
that  they  who  would  sail  must  wait  and  watch,  and 
take  the  tide;  and  larger  ships  can  only  get  afloat,  or, 
if  afloat,  get  across  the  bar  and  into  harbor,  when, 
through  a  favorable  conjunction  of  celestial  influences, 
the  sea  swells  in  stream  or  spring  tides  beyond  her 
common  bounds.  The  seaman  has  his  spring  tides ; 
the  husbandman  has  his  spring  time,  and  those  show- 
ers, and  soft  winds,  and  sunny  hours,  on  the  prompt 
and  diligent  improvement  of  which  the  state  of  his 
barn  and  barn  yards  depends. 

"Let  it  be,"  said  the  Lord  to  David  and  his  men 
of  war,  when — lying  in  ambush,  and  expecting  divine 
assistance — they  waited  for  the  signal  of  battle,  "let 
it  be,  when  thou  hearest  the  sound  of  going  on  the 
tops  of  the  mulberry  trees,  that  thou  shalt  bestir  thy- 
self." Such  a  signal,  like  the  feet  of  the  angelic  host 
marching  over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  heaven  may 
vouchsafe  to  us  in  some  holy  desire,  emotion,  thought, 
which,  if  yielded  to  and  improved,  may  lead  to  heaven  ; 
but  neglected,  rejected,  or  repelled,  may  leave  us  to 
perish  in  hell.  In  these,  which  occasionally  come  to 
the  most  careless  sinner,  you  hear  the  Spirit  moving 
—in  them  you  liear  the  Spirit  calling.    Improve  them. 

If  improved,  who  can  tell  but  it  may  be  with  you 
as  with  one  well  known  to  us.  She  was  a  fair  enough 
professor,  yet  had  been  living  a  careless,  godless, 
Christless  life.  She  awoke  one  morning,  and,  most 
strange  and  unaccountable  !  her  waking  feeling  was  a 
strong  desire  to  pray.     She  wondered.     It  was  early 


THE  RENOVATOR.  297 

dawn^  and  what  more  natural  than  that  she  should 
say,  there  is  time  enough — meanwhile  *'  a  little  more 
sleep,  a  little  more  slumber,  a  little  more  folding  of 
the  hands  to  sleep?"  As  she  was  sinking  back  again 
into  unconsciousness,  suddenly,  with  the  brightness 
and  power  of  lightning,  a  thought  flashed  into  her 
mind,  filling  her  with  alarm — this  desire  raay  have 
come  from  God ;  this  may  be  the  hour  of  my  destiny 
■ — this,  the  tide  of  salvation,  which,  if  neglected,  may 
never  return.  She  rose,  and  flung  herself  on  her 
knees.  The  chamber  was  changed  into  a  Peniel,  and 
when  the  morning  sun  looked  in  at  her  window,  he 
found  her  wrestling  with  God  in  prayer;  and,  like  one 
from  a  sepulcher,  she  came  forth  that  day  at  the  call 
of  Jesus  to  follow  him  henceforth,  and  in  her  future 
life  to  walk  this  w^orld  with  God. 

11.  God's  Spirit  is  not  only  given  to  his  people,  but 
dwells  in  them.     "  I  will  put  my  Spirit  within  you." 

The  communication  between  spirits,  otherwise  than 
through  the  medium  of  matter,  and  our  bodily  organs, 
is  so  great  a  mystery,  that  we  are  not  prepared  to  say 
how  far  unconverted  men  may  or  may  not  be  "  pos 
sessed  of  the  devil."  Of  many  a  wretched  slave  of 
vice,  on  whom  tears,  and  pra3^ers,  and  expostulations, 
and  rewards,  and  punishments,  have  all  been  tried, 
and  tried  in  vain,  it  maybe  said  without  exaggeration, 
*'He  is  grievously  tormented  of  a  devil."  There  are 
incidents  and  expressions  also  in  the  Word  of  God, 
which  invest  the  subject  of  demoniacal  possession  with 
a  painful  and  very  alarming  interest.  On  one  occa 
sion  Peter  endeavors  to  dissuade  his  Master  from  the 
cross,  and  stands  between  him  and  the  salvation  of  the 
lost ,  whereupon,  as  if  he  saw  the  devil  looking  through 


298  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

a  disciple's  eyes,  and  heard  his  speech  in  a  disciple's 
tongue,  Jesus  turned  on  Peter,  saying' — "  Get  thee  be- 
hind me,  Satan."  Again,  when  Judas  received  the 
sop,  it  is  said  that  ''Satan  entered  into  him,"  and  im- 
mediately— as  the  ship  turns  to  the  helm,  when  a  new 
hand  steps  on  board,  and  taking  it  changes  her  course 
—lie  left  the  supper  table,  to  do  his  Master's  business. 
Again,  Paul  speaks  of  a ''fellowship  with  devils,"  a 
"cup  of  devils,"  and  a  "  devil's  table."  Who  knows 
but  that  those  terrible  spectacles  of  possession,  where 
the  bodies  of  unhappy  men  were  seized,  inhabited, 
tormented  by  unclean  spirits,  may  have  been  visible 
emblems  of  the  unclean  and  unconverted  heart?  When 
God  left  man  at  the  Fall,  and  abandoned  that  heart 
which  had  once  been  his  holy  and  happy  home,  it  be- 
came a  vacant,  empty  house  for  Satan  to  occupy; 
and,  like  bands  of  robbers,  who  haunt  some  ruined 
castle,  where  power  and  grandeur  and  rank  once  re- 
sided, many  devils  may  be  secretly  lurking  in  the  dark 
chambers  of  this  desolate  and  dismantled  palace. 

We  have  sometimes  thought  that  we  saw  the  fittest 
emblem  of  man's  fallen  state,  in  the  ruins  of  an  old 
church.  Now  deserted,  desecrated,  defiled,  what  a 
change  is  there  !  Save  in  the  ivy,  that  like  pity  clings 
to  the  crumbling  wall — sustaining  and  vailing  its 
decay — and  in  some  sweet  wild  flower  rooted  in 
window  sill,  or  gaping  rent,  beauty  and  life  are  gone. 
Yet  there,  once  on  a  time,  many  a  beautiful  babe  was 
baptized  to  God ;  there  holy  words  were  spoken ; 
holy  vows  were  taken,  and  holy  communions  held. 
There  are  eyes  in  glory  that  turn  with  interest  to  that 
lonely  spot — God  and  man  often  met  within  these 
roofless  walls  ;  "  This  and  that  man  was  born  there." 
But  now  the  only  sounds  are  the  sighing  of  the  wind. 


THE   RENOVATOR.  299 

or  the  roar  of  the  storm — the  hoot  of  the  owl,  or  the 
hiss  of  the  serpent;  nor  life  is  found  there  now,  but 
in  the  brood  of  the  night  bird,  which  has  its  nest 
among  the  ruins  above,  or  in  the  worms  that  fatten 
upon  the  dead  in  their  cold  graves  below.  "  The  glory 
is  departed."  And  once  a  shrine  of  God,  but  now  a 
deserted  sanctuary,  may  we  not  write  "Ichabod  "  on 
the  heart  ?  The  ruin  resounds  with  the  echoes  which 
the  ear  of  fancy  hears  muttering  among  the  desolate 
heaps  of  Babylon — "Fallen,  fallen,  fallen!" 

Whatever  habitation  the  prince  of  darkness  may 
have  within  unconverted  men — and  however,  also, 
holding  for  a  time  some  footing  even  in  God's  people, 
he  may  raise  up  within  them  those  thoughts  of  blas- 
phemy, and  desires  of  sin,  which  come  as  unbidden  as 
they  are  unwelcome — the  saints  of  God  enjoy  a  bless- 
ed possession.  Not  the  angels,  but  the  Spirit  of  God 
inhabits  them.  Heaven  has  descended  into  their 
bosoms,  and  their  bodies  are  become  a  holy  temple. 
God  now  in  \efy  truth  not  only  dwells  "with  man," 
but  171  man.  "I  will  put  my  Spirit  within  you." 
He  is  enshrined  within  them  ;  and  as  the  soul  dwells 
in  the  body,  God  dwells  in  the  soul.  "  Know  ye  not," 
says  an  apostle,  "  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  ?"  Thus— al- 
though in  a  subordinate  sense — the  members  resemble 
their  crowned  and  exalted  head  :  their  bodies,  like  his 
own,  are  a  temple,  and  the  heart  of  the  believer  is  the 
happy,  honored  shrine  of  him  whom  the  heaven  of 
heavens  cannot  contain. 

Speaking  of  the  man  that  loves  him,  our  Lord  said, 
*'We  will  come  unto  him."  This  promise  is  one 
which  he  fulfills  in  the  daily  communications  of  his 
word  and  Spirit.     Earth  has  no  lovers  who  meet  so 


300  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

often  as  Jesus  and  his  bride.  The  lowliest  and 
poorest  Christian  God  honors  with  daily  visits.  He 
comes  at  the  time  of  prayer ;  he  occupies  the  mercy- 
seat  at  the  stated  hour  of  worship  ;  and  into  the  closet 
where  the  good  man  goes,  he  goes  along  with  him. 
lie  is  closeted  there  with  God  ;  and  comes  forth  like  a 
warrior  from  his  tent,  inspired  with  courage,  and 
armed  for  the  battle  of  life.  Happy  man  !  he  sleeps 
at  niglit  in  God's  arms  ;  happy  man !  in  every  trial 
he  weeps  on  God's  bosom  !  happy  man !  although  his 
fare  be  but  a  crust  of  bread  and  cup  of  w^ater,  he 
dines  every  day  at  heaven's  roj^al  table. 

Contented,  not  coveting  the  luxuries  which  wealth 
commands,  he  has  bread  to  eat  and  company  to  keep 
the  world  knows  not  of;  and,  although  he  be  the 
poorest  of  God's  poor  ones,  there  are  none  of  the  great 
ones  of  this  earth,  who,  with  their  privileged  and 
prized  access  to  court,  move  in  such  high  society. 
Could  you  see  the  angels  who  wing  their  flight  to  this 
straw- thatched  cottage — the  telegraph  of  prayer,  that, 
wdth  extended  lines  stretched  up  to  the  throne,  is  ever 
working — the  messages  that  go  up,  and  the  answers 
that  come  down — Jesus  himself  descending  to  bow 
his  kingly  head  at  that  lowly  door,  with  "  Peace  to 
this  house"  on  his  lips,  gifts  in  his  hand,  love  beaming 
in  his  eye  and  burning  in  his  bosom,  you  would  not 
v/onder  how  the  poor  pious  man  can  suffer  so  many 
hardships,  and  yet  live  so  contented.  Pitying  the  pov- 
erty of  riches,  the  meanness  of  rank,  the  littleness  of 
greatness — envying  no  man  his  high  acquaintances, 
coveting  no  man's  large  estates — all  he  needs  is  to 
wear  his  honors  meekly;  with  a  rank  higher  than 
kings  possess  or  kings  can  bestow,  with  a  patent  of 
nobility  that  never  can  be  forfeited,  all  he  needs  is  to 


THE  RENOVATOR.  801 

be  "clotlied  with  humility;"  while  he  opens  his  heart 
and  invites  his  Lord  to  come  in,  all  he  needs  is  to  do 
that  with  the  modest}^  of  the  man  who  said,  "  I  am  not 
worthy  that  thou  shouldst  enter  beneath  my  roof." 

Here,  however — as  also  in  those  words  of  Christ,  to 
which  I  have  referred — God  not  only  promises  to 
visit  his  people,  but  by  liis  Spirit  to  abide  with  them. 
"I  will  put  my  Spirit  wnthin  you."  "  Happy  is  that 
people  whose  God  is  the  Lord."  For  who  or  what 
else  abides?  Not  our  parents  or  pastors;  the  arms 
that  embraced  us  are  moldering  in  the  grave,  and  on 
the  lips  that  taught  us  knowledge  the  dust  of  death 
lies  thick.  Our  health  may  not  abide;  there  is  a 
griefless,  graveless  land,  where  "the  inhabitant  never 
says  that  he  is  sick ;"  but  faith  lifts  her  eye  to  heaven, 
and  seeks  it  yonder — not  here.  Our  wealth  may  not 
abide  ;  and  so  one  who,  better  than  many,  remembered 
its  uncertainty,  when  remonstrated  with  for  giving 
lavishly  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  replied,  "  Riches  take 
CO  themselves  wings  and  flee  away ;  and  I  think  it 
Dest  to  clip  them."  Our  children  may  not  abide  ;  the 
earth  sounds  hollow  to  the  foot — it  is  so  full  of  graves. 
Ah !  how"  few  gardens  are  there  whei-e  death  has  not 
left  his  foot  prints,  when  he  came  to  steal  away  some 
of  our  sweetest  flowers.  Few  are  the  trees  standing 
on  this  earth,  from  which  he  has  not  lopped  off  some 
goodly  boughs.  In  this  world,  have  I  not  seen  one 
and  another  stand  bleak  a.nd  branchless ;  and  Oh,  how 
blessed  for  the  father  who  has  laid  the  last  survivor 
m  the  dust,  and  returns  from  that  saddest  funeral  to 
And  God  waiting  for  him  in  his  desolate  home! 

When  the  believer  is  alone, — God  in  his  Holy  Spirit 
abiding  with  him, — he  is  not  alone.  How  happy, 
yet  how  strange  a  man  he  is!     Those  paradoxes  by 


S02  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

wliicli  Paul  describes  him — "  Unknown,  and  jet  well 
known  ;  dying,  and  behold  we  live ;  sorrowful,  yet 
always  rejoicing ;  poor,  yet  making  many  rich ; 
having  nothing,  and  yet  possessing  all  things" — 
admit  of  important  additions.  Kill  him,  and  ho 
lives;  bury  him,  and  he  rises;  exalt  him,  and  he  is 
humbled;  humble  him,  and  he  is  exalted;  curse 
him,  and  he  prays  for  you;  hate  him,  and  he  loves 
you;  an  orphan,  he  clings  to  a  living  father;  a  widow, 
she  sleeps  on  the  bosom  of  a  living  husband.  "  A 
father  of  the  fiitherless,  and  a  judge  of  the  widow  is 
God  in  his  holy  habitation."  Piety  sits  on  a  husband 
or  father's  grave,  confident  in  that  living  relationship, 
and  calm  beneath  the  protection  of  him  who  says — 
**  You  shall  not  afflict  any  widow  or  fatherless  child. 
If  thou  afflict  them  in  any  wise,  and  they  cry  unto 
me,  I  will  surely  hear  their  cry.  And  my  wrath 
shall  wax  hot,  and  I  will  kill  you  with  the  sword ; 
and  your  wives  shall  be  widows,  and  your  children 
shall  be  fatherless."  Let  a  believer  never  count  him- 
self desolate.  Let  others  never  call  him  so.  If  thy 
heart  is  right,  it  matters  not  how  mean  thy  house 
may  be ;  God  shall  abide  with  thee  there  on  earth,  till 
thou  leavcst  this  earth  to  abide  with  him  in  heaven. 


C(]£  frlir  fife. 


{  •wiw  cause  you  to  -walk  ia  my  statutes,  and  keep  my  judg 

lents,  and  do  them. — Ezekiel  xxxvi.  27. 

Tiiiu  Dl\  ine  Being  has  established  certain  laws — 
some  ol  a  p  ajsical,  others  of  a  moral  nature.  And  it 
is  as  impossible  to  violate  with  impunity  a  moral  as  a 
physical  law ;  although  the  consequences  in  the  former 
case  may  be  more  remote,  and  the  suffering  may  not 
follow  so  closely  on  the  heels  of  the  sin.  Solomon 
asks,  "  Can  a  man  take  fire  into  his  bosom,  and  not  be 
burned?"  ''Can  he  touch  pitch,  and  not  be  defiled?" 
You  at  once  answer  no.  He  who  walks  into  the  fire 
shall  certainly  be  burned ;  he  who  falls  into  the  water 
shall  certainly  be  drowned  ;  and  if  any  man  were  mad 
enough  to  pitch  himself  over  a  lofty  bartizan,  he 
lights  not  on  the  ground  like  a  winged  bird  or  angel 
— he  shall  certainly  be  crushed  to  pieces.  Not  only 
so,  but  a  passive  as  well  as  active  violation  of  nature's 
laws  is  followed  by  suffering.  He  who  resists  her  de- 
mand for  sleep — he  who  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the  calls 
of  hunger — he  who  denies  his  body  the  rest  and  re- 
freshment that  nature  needs,  must  die.  Now,  no  less 
certainly  shall  he  sufifer  who  neglects  or  violates  those 
moral  laws  which  have  been  established  by  the  decree 
of  God. 

It  may  seem  a  strange,  and  even  foolish  thing  to  \ 
assert,  but  it  is  not  the  less  true,  that  it  is  safer  to  i 
touch  fire  than  sin,  and  safer  in  a  sense  to  drink,  off  a 


804  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

cap  of  poison,  than  quaff  the  cup  of  devils.  A  man 
stands  a  better  chance  of  escape  who  violates  a  physi 
cal  than  a  moral  law.  This  is  difficult  to  be  believed. 
And  why?  Just  because,  in  the  breach  of  moral  laws, 
judgment  does  not,  as  in  the  breach  of  physical  laws, 
follow  speedily  on  the  transgression,  nor  succeed  it 
as  the  peal  thunders  on  the  flash.  Yet  it  is  not  more 
strange  than  true  ;  and  true,  for  this  plain,  satisfactory, 
and  unanswerable  reason,  that  he  who  made  the  laws 
which  govern  the  physical  world,  may  modify,  may 
change,  may  even  altogether  repeal  them.  He  has 
already  done  so.  Iron  is  heavier  than  water ;  yet  did 
not  the  iron  axe  swim  like  a  cork  at  the  prophet's 
bidding  ?  Did  not  the  unstable  element  of  sea  stand 
up  in  walls  of  solid  crystal,  till  the  host  passed  over? 
Did  naked  foot,  when  bathed  in  morning  dew,  ever 
feel  the  green  grass  cooler  than  those  three  Hebrews, 
when,  on  the  floor  of  the  burning  furnace,  they  trod  at 
once  beneath  their  feet  a  tyrant's  power  and  the  red 
hot  coals  of  Are  ?  Fire  may  not  burn,  and  water  may 
not  drown.  He  who  gave  their  laws  to  these  elements 
may  alter  them  as  he  sees  meet;  but  that  moral  law, 
which  is  a  transcript  of  his  own  mind  and  will,  is,  and 
must  be  unchangeable  as  himself.  Be  sure,  therefore, 
that  you  can  not  sin  with  impunity.  Be  sure  that 
your  sin  will  find  you  out.  Be  sure  that  what  you 
sow  you  shall  reap.  Be  sure,  that  although  the  cloud 
is  long  of  gathering,  it  shall  one  day  explode.  Be 
sure  that  sin  and  sorrow  are  linked  together  by  an 
adamantine  chain — a  chain  durable  and  eternal  as  that 
which  binds  the  creature  to  the  throne  of  God.  When, 
therefore,  Satan,  the  flesh,  or  the  world  solicit,  re- 
member, that  if  your  weakness  yields,  you  are  more 
'pertain  of  suffering,  than  you  would  be  of  burning  the 


THE   NEW  LIFE.  305 

finger  which  you  thrust  into  the  fire.  Sin  is  the  fire 
that  a  man  can  not  take  into  his  bosom,  and  not  be 
burned. 

J)  J  you  ask,  by  way  of  objection,  do  not  God's  peo- 
ple escape  suffering — commit  sin,  and  yet  escape  the 
penalty  ?  True.  But  their  exemption  from  future  pun- 
ishment forms  no  exception  to  this  rule.  In  their 
case,  indeed,  the  debtor  escapes,  but  then  the  creditor 
is  paid.  The  sufferings  from  which  they  are  exempted 
were  endured  by  their  substitute,  and  in  a  suffering 
Saviour  their  sins  were  punished.  "  He  bore  our 
griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows.  Tlie  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  with  his  stripes  we  are 
healed." 

Entertaining  these  views,  we  ought  not  to  be  sus- 
pected of  losing  sight  of  the  dignity  and  claims  of 
the  moral  law  in  our  faith  in  a  crucified  Saviour. 
That  holy  law  was  not  buried  in  Jesus'  sepulcher 
nor  left  behind  with  the  grave-clothes  in  the  tomb. 
We  no  longer  hope,  indeed,  to  be  saved  by  the  law 
yet  we  hold  with  the  Apostle — hold  as  strongly  as 
any  can  do — that  "  the  law  is  holj^,  and  the  command- 
ment holy,  just,  and  good,"  and  that  these  moral  laws 
which  were  enshrined  in  the  ark  of  Moses,  and  most 
awfully  illustrated  on  the  cross  of  Christ,  have  lost 
none  of  their  authority.  They  remain  to  this  day  as 
imperative  as  those  which  regulate  the  tides,  direct 
the  procession  of  seasons,  or  steer  the  planets  through 
tlie  realms  of  space.  Obedience  to  the  law  has  indeed 
ceased  to  be  the  condition  of  salvation ;  it  is  well  it  is 
so.  Otherwise,  who  should  have  been  saved  ?  "  If 
thou.  Lord,  shouldst  mark  iniquities,  0  Lord,  who 
shall  stand?"  "Enter  not  into  judgment  with  thy 
servant,  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  man  living  be  justi* 


SCO  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

fied.''  The  law  is  not  now  the  gate  of  life;  yet  al- 
though it  has  ceased  to  be  the  gate,  it  has  not  ceased, 
and  never  shall  cense,  to  be  tlie  rule  of  life.  Wo 
preach,  indeed,  a  free  and  full  salvation ;  and  we 
glory  in  the  theme.  AVe  say  that  the  greatest  law- 
breaker may  be  saved  ;  the  foulest  sinner  washed 
white  as  snow ;  the  basest  of  the  base,  the  vilest  of 
the  vile,  exalted  to  a  throne  in  heaven  ;  and  that  as 
no  obedience  rendered  to  the  law  since  the  fall  of 
Adam  can  open  heaven  to  fiillen  man,  so  since  the 
death  of  Christ  no  disobedience  can  shut  its  gates 
against  him.  "We  say  with  Paul,  "It  is  a  fixithful 
saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ 
came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  I  am 
chief."  Blessed  be  God,  the  law,  so  stern-like  in  a 
sinner's  eyes,  no  longer  carries  the  keys  of  heaven. 
Purchased  by  his  blood,  they  are  in  the  custody  of 
him  who  is  very  pitiful  and  of  great  mercy,  and  who 
— never  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  cry  of  human  dis- 
tress— cheers  the  expiring  hours  of  guilt,  and  said 
even  to  a  thief,  "  To-day  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in 
paradise." 

"  Do  we  then  make  void  the  law  through  faith  ?" 
as  Paul  asks.  Some  have  done  so.  Wild  and  wicked 
fanatics  have  risen  to  trouble  the  church,  and  bring  a 
gospel  of  grace  into  contempt.  They  have  asserted 
that  it  has  set  them  free  from  the  obligation  of  these 
hoh'-  commandments,  and  granted  to  believers  a  plen 
arv  indulgence  to  commit  all  manner  of  iniquity. 
From  such  licentious  and  immoral  doctrines,  from 
doctrines  not  less  calculated  to  dissolve  society  than 
to  dishonor  the  church  of  Christ,  child  of  God  I 
shrink   with   holy   abhorrence ;    this   your   language, 


THE  NEW   LIFE.  307 

"  My  soul,  come  not  thou  into  their  secret;  unio  their 
assembly,  mine  honor,  be  not  tliou  united." 

I  know  that  Paul  says,  '•  AVe  are  delivered  from  the 
law,  that  being  dead  wherein  we  were  lield ;"  but  are 
we  delivered  that  we  may  sin  ?  Assured!}'  not.  On 
the  contrary,  we  are  delivered  that  we  may  serve  God  ; 
6erve  him  better,  serve  him  holier;  serve  him,  as  Priul 
also  says,  "in  the  newness  of  the  spirit,  and  not  in 
the  oldness  of  the  letter."  Addressing  us  not  with 
the  voice  of  Sinai's  thunders,  but  in  the  melting  and 
mightier  tones  of  a  Redeemer's  love,  the  Gospel  lays 
this  injunction  upon  all,  "Be  careful  to  maintain  good 
works."  These,  although  not  always  the  believer's 
attainment,  will  always  be  his  aim.  Committing  to 
his  heart,  and  enshrining  there  those  tables  which 
Moses,  in  honor  of  their  excellence,  deposited  in  the 
iabernacle's  holiest  shrine,  he  will  say,  "O  how  I  love 
thy  law,  0  Lord;"  and  he  will  pray  that  God  would 
fulfill  to  him  this  gracious  promise  of  the  text — "  I  will 
cause  them  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  they  shall  keep 
my  judgments  and  do  them." 

In  now  addressing  ourselves  to  the  subject  of  that 
new  life,  which  the  believer  lives  in  obedience  to  the 
law  of  God,  I  remark — 

I.  It  is  a  willing  obedience. 

Many  movements  take  place  in  the  universe  inde- 
pendent of  any  will  but  that  of  God.  The  sap  ascends 
the  tree,  the  planets  revolve  round  the  sun,  the  stars 
rise  and  set  in  the  heavens,  the  tides  flow  and  ebb  upon 
our  shores,  and  nature  walks  in  God's  statutes,  keeping 
his  judgments,  and  doing  them,  moved  to  obedience 
by  no  will  but  his.  So  soon,  however,  as,  leaving  in- 
animate matter  below,  we  ascend  into  those  regiona 


308  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

where  mind,  or  even  instinct  and  matter  arc  united, 
wc  discover  a  beautiful  and  benevolent  law,  by  virtue 
of  which  God  at  once  secures  the  happiness  and  pro- 
vides for  the  welfare  of  his  creatures.  He  so  orders 
it  that  their  will  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  their  work ; 
their  inclinations  with  their  interests;  and  their  in- 
stincts with  the  functions  which  they  are  called  on  to 
perform.  The  bee  constructs  its  cell,  the  bird  weaves 
her  nest,  the  eagle  among  the  crags  above  teaches  her 
brood  to  fly,  and  in  cairn  or  cave  below,  the  fox 
suckles  her  young ;  and  these  are  all  labors  of  love — 
labors  to  which  they  bring  a  willing  heart.  Thus  their 
happiness  lies  in  their  work.  And  to  ascend  even 
into  heaven,  this  is  no  doubt  the  secret  of  its  felicity; 
for  as  the  law  of  gravity  extends  itself  to  the  most 
distant  stars,  so  that  that  which  rounds  a  tear-drop 
gives  its  shape  to  every  sun,  I  have  no  doubt  that  this 
law  of  divine  power  and  benignity  leaches  the  highest 
and  holiest  existences.  The  will  and  work  of  angels 
are  in  perfect  harmony ;  therefore  an  angel's  duty  is 
an  angel's  delight. 

Observe,  also,  how,  when  God  changes  the  condi- 
tion of  his  creatures,  he  accommodates  their  will  to 
the  change.  Take,  for  example,  that  insect  to  which 
I  have  elsewhere  alluded.  It  comes  from  the  egg  a 
creeping  worm  ;  it  is  bred  in  corruption ;  it  crawls  on 
the  ground;  its  aliment  is  the  coarsest  fare.  In  time 
it  undergoes  its  wonderful  metamorphosis.  The  wrig- 
gling caterpillar  becomes  a  winged  and  painted  butter- 
fly ;  and  at  this  change,  with  its  old  skin  it  casts  off 
its  old  habits  and  instincts.  Now,  it  has  a  will  as 
well  as  wings  to  fly.  And  with  its  bed  the  bosom  of 
a  flower,  its  food  the  honied  nectar,  its  home  the 
sunny  air,  and  new  instincts  animating  its  frame,  its 


THE  NEW  LIFE.  809 

will  plays  in  harmony  with  its  work.  The  change 
within  corresponds  to  the  change  without.  It  spurns 
the  ground ;  and,  as  you  may  gather  from  its  merry, 
mazy  dance,  the  creature  is  happy,  and  delights  in  the 
new  duties  which  it  is  called  to  perform.  Even  so  it 
is  in  that  change  which  grace  works  in  siimers.  The 
nature  of  the  redeemed  is  so  accommodated  to  the 
state  of  redemption,  their  wishes  are  so  fitted  to  their 
wants,  their  hopes  to  their  prospects,  their  aspirations 
to  their  honors,  and  their  will  to  their  work,  that  they 
would  be  less  content  to  return  to  polluted  pleasures 
than  this  beautiful  creature  to  be  stripped  of  its  silken 
wings,  and  condemned  to  pass  its  days  amid  the  old, 
foul  garbage,  its  former  food.  With  such  a  will  and 
nature  as  they  now  possess,  their  old  life  would  be 
misery — would  be  hell.  Would  not  the  reclaimed 
prodigal,  rather  than  leave  his  father's  table,  bosom, 
and  love,  for  the  company  of  harlots  and  the  husks 
of  swine  troughs,  embrace  death  and  go  to  his  grave? 
Even  so  God's  people  would  rather  not  be  at  all,  than 
be  what  once  they  were.  Hence,  on  the  one  hand, 
their  unhappiness  in  sin;  and,  on  the  other,  their  en- 
joyment in  God's  service ;  hence  David's  longing  for 
the  place  of  ordinances ;  hence  the  beauty  of  a  Sab- 
bath scene,  and  the  music  of  Sabbath  bells,  and  the 
answer  of  their  hearts  to  the  welcome  sound,  "  I  was 
glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  unto  the  house 
of  the  Lord." 

Are  you  unconverted?  Let  this  teach  you  what 
most  you  need.  To  men  who  are  strangers  to  the 
happiness  to  be  found  in  piety,  and  have  their  will  set 
contrary  to  the  law  of  God,  religion  seems,  and  can 
not  but  seem,  a  very  sad,  demure,  miserable  thing. 
Oh  !  it  appeiirs  a  weary  thing  to  be  singing  psalms  I 


8i0  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

— they  would  sing  songs  ratlier ;  a  dull  book  the 
Bible — a  most  uninteresting  task  to  be  poring  over 
these  pages — they  would  prefer  a  novel  or  a  newspa- 
per. Bather  than  sit  at  the  communion  table,  they 
would  be  guests  where  the  board  groans  with  luxuries, 
bowls  flow  with  wine,  peals  of  laughter  follow  the 
bright  flashes  of  wit,  and  thoughtless  joy  dances  away 
the  hours.  Earth's  short  Sabbaths  seem  long  and  are 
w^eary  ;  and  it  is  a  mystery  which  they  can  not  fathom, 
how,  when  they  go  to  heaven  (and  who  is  not  hoping 
to  get  there  ?),  they  are  to  pass  an  endless  Sabbath  of 
psalms,  and  songs,  and  such  listless  services. 

No  wonder,  if  this  is  your  state,  that  piety  has  no 
charms  for  you.  Without  the  clean  heart  and  the 
right  spirit,  your  attempts  to  obey  the  law  must  be  as 
unpleasant  as  they  are  unprofitable.  It  is  hard  to  row 
against  the  tide,  hard  to  swim  against  the  stream,  but 
harder  still,  under  no  impulse  but  the  lash  of  a  guilt^^ 
conscience,  and  the  terrors  of  a  coming  judgment,  tc 
attempt  conformity  to  the  will  of  God.  And,  admit- 
ting your  conformity  to  be  much  greater  than  it  is, 
what  possible  value  can  it  have  in  the  eyes  of  God  ? 
If  even  we  would  rather  do  the  work  ourselves,  or 
want  the  work  altogether,  than  have  it  done  for  us  by 
a  sullen,  sulky  servant — what  pleasure  can  God  have 
in  your  slavish  service  ?  I  would  not  be  served  by  a 
slave  ;  nor  will  Jesus  Christ.  His  arguments  are  not 
whips — his  reasons  are  not  blows — his  servants  do 
.not  walk  and  work  in  fetters.  He  is  the  beloved  sov 
ereign  of  a  people  who  are  free,  devoted  to  his  inter- 
ests, and  ready  to  die  for, his  crown.  He  measures  the 
value  of  services  not  so  much  by  the  work  done,  as  by 
the  willingness  to  do  it.  They  serve  that  wait.  Then, 
as  the  Apostle  says,     '  Let  there  be  first  a  willing 


THE   ^'EW   LIFE.  311 

mind,  and  it  is  accepted  according  to  tliat  a  man  hath, 
and  not  according  to  that  he  hath  not." 

In  short,  the  union  between  the  Saviour  and  the 
soul,  hke  the  marriage  of  Isaac  and  Eebecca,  stands 
on  a  cordial  assent.  "  Peradventure,"  said  Eleazer  to 
his  master,  "peradventure  the  woman  will  not  be 
'ivilling  to  follow  me."  "  Then,"  said  Abraham,  "if 
the  woman  be  not  willing  to  follow  thee,  thou  shalt 
be  clear  from  this  my  oath."  On  this  condition, 
Eleazer  sets  off  to  woo  and  win  a  wife  for  Isaac.  He 
arrives  at  Nachor ;  he  is  introduced  to  Laban,  and  the 
scene  in  that  house  at  Nachor  excites  in  us  these  two 
wishes. 

First,  Would  to  God  that  those  who  hold  a  higher 
commission,  and  are  stewards  of  the  mysteries  of  the 
Gospel,  were  as  intent  on  their  office,  as  this  steward 
on  his.  Laban  presses  his  hospitality  upon  him  ;  the 
savory  meat  appeals  to  his  hunger;  he  has  had  a  long 
journey,  and  it  is  reasonable  surely  that  he  take  some 
rest,  get  the  dust  of  the  road  washed  from  his  feet,  and 
refresh  exhausted  nature  before  he  enters  upon  busi* 
ness !  No — Pattern  of  fidelity  !  He  says — "  I  will 
not  eat  until  I  have  told  mine  errand."  And  would 
to  God,  also,  that  he  who  dealt  with  Rebecca's  heart, 
would  persuade  sinners  to  accept  a  better  offer- 
backed  by  tokens  of  better  love — and  give  us,  as  am 
bassadors  for  Christ  in  his  love  suit,  that  maidenV 
ready  answer.  Isaac  had  sent  a  far  way  for  her.  Sbe 
saw  his  messenger;  he  stood  before  her,  covered  with 
the  dust,  and  embrowned  with  the  sun  of  the  desert. 
She  saw  Isaac's  love  in  these  sparkling  gems — the 
golden  tokens  of  his  affection.  Her  heart  was  won. 
Fair  and  lovely  pattern  of  faith  !  Whom  she  had  not 
seen  she  loved  ;  she  walked  by  faith,  not  by  sight ; 


312  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

and  paying  a  last  visit  to  a  mother's  grave,  forgetting 
"  her  father's  house  and  her  own  people,"  the  com- 
panions of  her  youth,  and  the  sweet  home  of  her 
early  days,  she  turned  round  to  her  brother,  and  to 
his  question — '"Wilt  thou  go  with  this  man?"  with 
maiden  modesty,  but  masculine  firmness,  she  replied, 
"  I  will  go." 

ir.  This  is  a  progressive  obedience. 

To  "  walk,"  is  expressive  of  progress  in  grace. 
Walking  is  an  act,  and  one  not  acquired  in  a  day ;  for 
the  power  to  walk  is  not  ours,  in  the  same  sense,  as 
the  power  to  breathe.  We  are  born  with  the  one 
power,  but  born  without  the  other.  Like  every  other 
habit,  walking  becomes  so  easy  by  use,  that  we  are 
unconscious  of  any  effort;  yet  step  into  the  nursery, 
and  you  see  that  this  art,  acquired  by  labor,  is  the 
-eward  of  continuous,  conquering  perseverance.  In 
fact,  our  erect  attitude  and  progressive  motion  over 
the  ground — simple  as  they  seem — are  achieved  by 
means  of  most  delicate  and  dexterous  balancing.  The 
marble  statue  does  not  stand  erect  without  foreign 
support ;  and  you  have  no  sooner  raised  a  dead  man, 
and  set  him  up  on  his  feet,  than  he  falls  at  yours,  a 
heap  of  loathsome  mortality. 

In  beauty  and  splendor,  the  figure  of  my  text  may 
yield  to  other  images,  expressive  of  a  believer's  pro- 
gress— such  as  that  of  a  seed  dropped  into  the  soil, 
where,  striking  down  a  delicate  fiber,  and  sending  u^i 
a  green  and  tender  shoot,  it  first  rises  into  a  seedling, 
which  the  finger  of  an  infant  could  crush,  but  w'riich 
grows,  after  a  hundred  summers  have  come  and  gone, 
into  a  robust  and  lofty  tree,  that,  with  its  roots  moored 
in  the  rock,  lifts  a  proud  head  on  high,  and  defies  the 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  313 

storm.  Or,  such  as  that  furnisliecl  by  the  birth  and 
growth  of  clay,  from  the  first  faint  streak  of  dawn — 
when  the  face  of  morn  blushes,  as  it  Avere,  to  look  on 
the  crimes  of  earth — to  the  moment  when  the  sun 
rises  to  bathe  mountains,  plain,  and  sea,  in  a  golden 
flood  of  light.  In  so  far,  however,  as  the  setting  forth 
of  one  prominent  and  important  feature  of  a  believer's 
pi'ogrcss  is  concerned,  the  figure  of  my  text  yields  the 
pahn  to  none — nay,  is  perhaps  superior  to  any.  Other 
images  convey  the  idea  of  progress,  but  this,  of  pro- 
gress accomplished  by  unwearied  exertion — progress, 
the  triumph  of  an  intelligent  mind,  and  the  reward  of 
a  determined  will.  To  explain  this  special  point,  let 
me  borrow  an  illustration  from  our  Lord,  when  he 
took  a  little  child,  and,  presenting  the  blushing  boy 
to  the  wondering  assembly,  said.  Masters  of  Israel, 
doctors  of  the  temple,  priests  of  the  altar,  chiefs  of 
the  Sanhedrim,  behold  this  pattern ;  "  whosoever 
would  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  must  be  as  this 
little  child." 

In  this  image  Qod's  peo2)le  find  comfiM  and  encourage 
ment. 

Does  the  infant  who  is  learning  to  walk  abandon 
the  attempt,  or  yield  to  despair,  because  its  first  efforts 
are  so  feeble,  and  so  often  fail  of  success?  If  not, 
why  then  should  we  despond,  because,  in  attempting 
to  walk  in  God's  ways,  we  often  stumble,  and  not  sel 
dom  fall  ?  We — many  of  us,  at  least — are  but  babes 
in  Christ ;  and  he  no  more  gives  up  hope  of  his  peo- 
ple because  they  fall,  than  the  fond  mother  her  hope 
and  confidence  that  this  infant,  who  is  now  creeping 
across  the  floor,  shall  one  day  stand  erect  in  the  beauty 
of  its  form,  balanced  on  firm  feet,  and  with  free  and 
perfect  command  of  all  its  limbs.     And  why,  then, 

14 


314  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

should  we  despond  ?  Every  man  was  once  a  babe. 
Samson  himself — the  mighty  Nazarite  who  burst  asun- 
der new-spun  ropes  like  flax  touched  with  fire— who, 
with  more  than  a  giant's  strength,  wrenched  the  gates 
■»f  Gaza  from  the  city's  port,  and,  heaving  them  on  his 
ja.ck,  climbed  the  steep  acclivity — was  once  a  feeble, 
wailing  infant,  who  could  barely  carry  his  own  head 
erect,  and  hesitated  to  venture  from  a  mother's  knee. 
The  believer  takes  a  law  of  God,  and  tries  to  walk  in 
it — he  tries  to  resist  a  temptation  to  which  he  has 
often  yielded — he  fixes  his  eye  on  Jesus,  and,  fired 
with  a  holy  ambition,  attempts  to  imitate  him.  He 
fails.  Eepeated  attempts  and  repeated  failures  cast 
him  into  despondency.  He  lies  where  he  fell.  He 
gives  himself  up  to  dark  and  distressing  doubts. 
Satan  takes  advantage  of  his  failure,  and  insinuates 
that  he  has  never  been  converted — that  his  religious 
impressions  are  a  delusion — that  his  fair  profession 
has  been  a  vile  hypocrisy.  In  such  distressing  cir 
cumstances,  onr  children  become  our  teachers.  Goq 
ordains  strength  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes,  and  the 
lesson  of  the  nursery  is  invaluable.  Learning  in  thai 
school  that  walking  is  a  progressive  and  not  a  sudden 
attainment,  I  get  heart  to  say  with  David,  "  Why  art 
thou  cast  down,  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  disquieted 
within  me?"  That  to  my  soul,  and  this  to  the  devil, 
who  stands  brandishing  his  sword  over  me,  when  I 
am  lying  with  my  back  to  the  ground,  but  my  eyes  on 
heaven,  "  Rejoice  not  against  me,  O  mine  enemy , 
though  I  fall,  I  shall  aiise." 

Tl lis  image  stimulates  to  exertion^  as  ivell  as  comforts 
under  failure. 

In  attempting  to  walk,  the  child  falls  ;  there  is  blood 
upon  its  brow,  and  tears  in  its  eye.     Does  it  lie  there 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  315 

just  to  weep?  By  no  means  Looking  through  these 
tears,  and  stretching  out  its  Httle  arms — if  not  by 
speech,  yet  by  signs  that  go  to  a  mother's  heart — for 
it  can  pray  before  it  speaks — it  implores  her  hel[^ 
Nor  in  vain.  She  flies  to  raise  it ;  and  when  she  has 
stanched  the  bleeding  wound,  and  kissed  away  the 
tears,  and  soothed  it  in  her  gentle  bosom,  and  it  has 
there  sobbed  out  its  grief,  what  then  ?  Eecovering 
from  the  alarm,  and  soon  forgetting  its  wounds,  it 
seeks  the  floor  again.  Perhaps  it  has  been  taught 
some  caution — perhaps  it  has  learned  to  cling  more  to 
a  mother's  hand — ^perhaps  it  ventures  less  rashly  from 
her  side ;  yet,  moved  by  an  indomitable  will,  see  how 
it  returns  to  the  attempt,  tries  it  again  and  again,  until, 
after  some  blows,  and  many  falls,  it  earns  the  reward 
of  its  perseverance.  Now,  with  bright  health  on  its 
cheek,  with  grace  in  every  motion,  and  beauty  in  all 
its  attitudes,  laughing  in  its  joy,  and  luxuriating  in  the 
exercise  of  its  new-born  powers,  it  runs  "  without 
wearying,  and  walks  without  fainting." 

We  teach  our  children  ;  let  us  here  be  their  scholars, 
and  take  a  lesson  from  the  nursery.  Why,  then,  do 
we  make  so  little  progress  in  grace  ?  Why  at  this 
time  of  day,  when  some  of  us  are  bowed,  wrinkled, 
and  grey,  are  we  so  unable  to  walk  in  God's  statutes 
— to  keep  his  judgments  and  do  them?  It  is  not  be- 
cause our  education  has  been  neglected.  It  is  not  be- 
cause any  child  has  a  mother  so  fond,  so  kind,  so 
quick  to  help,  so  able  to  raise  the  fallen  and  guide  the 
iottering  step,  as  He  who  suffered  for  us  more  than 
mother's  birth's  pangs,  and  feels  for  us  more  than  a 
mother's  love.  What  child  in  earth's  happiest  home 
enjoys  a  believer's  advantages  ?  "  Happy  art  thou,  0 
Israel  ?  who  is  like  unto  thee,  0  people  saved  by  the 


816  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZKKTEL. 

Lord  ?  The  eternal  God  is  thy  refuge,  and  beneath 
the  everlasting  arms."  Why,  then,  is  the  jDrogress  of 
the  Church  so  slow,  compared  with  the  progress  of  the 
nursery?  Why  has  child  after  child  in  our  families 
learned  to  walk,  while  the  best  of  us  are  but  creeping, 
tottering,  stumbling,  on  our  way  to  heaven  ? 

There  are  mysteries  in  grace  ;  but  there  is  no  mys 
tery  here.  The  reason  is  plain.  Every  hour  of  the 
day  the  infant  is  on  its  knees  or  feet ;  it  falls,  but  it  ih 
to  rise ;  it  fails,  but  it  is  to  begin  again ;  its  very  hap 
piness  and  business  lie  in  the  acquisition  of  this  power 
and  the  smile  which  lights  up  its  beautiful  face,  and 
its  proud-like  air  when  it  can  stand  alone,  or  cross 
the  floor  to  throw  itself  laughing  into  a  mother's  arms, 
show  that  its  heart  and  happiness  are  in  this  work 
We  say  to  God's  people,  "go,  and,"  by  God's  grace, 
"  do  likewise."  Take  more  pains  and  give  more  prayei 
to  learn  this  holy  art.  Let  the  perseverance  of  the 
nursery  be  imitated  by  the  church.  Let  oar  knees  be 
as  much  employed  in  prayer,  and  our  powers  and 
hours  in  attempting  a  holy  life,  as  those  of  inflxncy  in 
learning  to  walk.  Oh,  if  we  would  give  the  same  "  dili 
gence  to  make  our  calling  and  election  sure" — the  same 
diligence  to  "  work  out  our  salvation,"  I  am  certain 
that  we  should  be  holier — much  holier  than  we  are. 
Our  life  would  present  a  happy  illustration  of  these  sub- 
lime and  resplendent  emblems — "  Ye  are  the  light  of 
the  world :"  '*  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light, 
that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day:" 
"  They  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles  ;  they  shall 
run  and  not  bo  weary,  they  shall  walk  and  not  fliint.' 

in.  This  willing  and  progressive  obedience  is  the 
eign  and  seal  of  salvation. 


THE  NEW  LIFE.  317 

Am  I  a  child  of  God?  How  am  I  to  know  that  1 
am  ?  These  are  anxious  questions  with  the  believer  ; 
and  jet  thej  are  questions  that  admit  of  a  very  simple 
answer.  We  have  not,  nor  can  we  expect  to  have, 
such  a  testimony  to  our  sonship  as  the  Saviour  received 
when  he  went  up  from  Jordan,  and  the  form  as  of  a 
dove  descended  out  of  heaven  on  his  head,  still  wet 
with  the  waters  of  baptism.  By  the  descent  of  the 
dove,  and  the  voice  of  the  thunder,  his  Father  said — 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased." 
And  yet  God's  people  enjoy  that  very  same  testimony. 
The  descent  of  the  Spirit  is  still  the  evidence  of  son 
ship ; — its  sign,  however,  is  not  a  dove  perched  upon 
their  heads,  but  the  dove  nestled  within  their  hearts. 
By  his  Spirit  God  creates  them  "  anew  in  Jesus  Christ 
unto  good  works  ; "  and  by  these — by  the  fruits  of  a 
holy  life,  by  the  joys  of  a  Holy  Ghost,  by  the  advanc- 
ing stages  of  a  holy  progress — his  Spirit  witnesses 
with  their  spirits  that  they  are  sons  of  God.  A  witness 
this,  as  certain,  and  therefore  as  satisfactor}^,  as  the 
voice  of  the  skies,  or  the  verdict  of  final  judgment. 

The  fruit  is  now,  as  it  shall  be  hereafter,  the  test  of 
the  tree.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  faith  without  works. 
Without  these,  your  profession  is  a  lie,  your  faith  is 
dead,  your  hope  is  a  delusion.  It  is  a  delusion  and  a 
snare,  like  the  phosphoric  light,  the  product  of  putre- 
faction which,  to  the  terror  of  superstitious  peasants, 
and  the  destruction  of  unwary  travelers,  gleams  and 
burns  at  night,  above  the  pool  in  whose  dark  depths 
life  has  been  lost,  and  a  body,  evolving  gases  capa- 
ble of  spontaneous  combustion,  is  going  to  deca}^ 
Now  as  the  fruit  is  the  test  of  the  tree,  obedience  is 
the  test  of  love  ;  hear  our  Lord — "He  that  hath  my 
commandments,  and  keepeth  them^  he  it  is  that  loreth 


318  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL 

me."  Do  not  mistake  us.  We  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  any  man  keeps  these  commandments  perfectly. 
Alas!  the  history  of  the  church,  and  each  man's  own 
personal  histor}^,  prove  to  our  shame  and  sorrow,  that 
God's  people  may,  and  do  fall  into  sin ;  and,  but  for 
the  restraining  and  constraining  grace  of  God,  would 
Tall  into  the  deepest,  grossest  sin.  Let  the  conviction 
teach  us  to  walk  softly,  humbly,  circumspectly  !  Oh, 
never  leave  God's  side,  nor  let  go  the  hand  of  grace. 
Cling  to  Christ's  arm,  as  if  the  storm  of  Galilee  were 
beating  about  your  head,  and  every  footstep  were 
planted  upon  a  swelling  wave. 

I  do  not  say  that  saints  will  not  fall  into  sin,  but  I 
do  say  that,  even  when  they  are  so  unhappy,  there 
will  be  an  unmistakable  difference  between  them  and 
the  ungodly.  Judas  sinned,  and  went  and  hanged 
himself;  Peter  sinned,  and  went  out  and  wept.  The 
sins  of  saints  are  the  occasion  of  saintly  sorrows.  God 
shall  see  them  at  the  fountain  weeping  and  washing 
away  their  guilt  in  the  blood  of  Jesus ;  and  to  Jesus 
liimself  they  will  go,  to  make  on  their  knees  the  con 
fession  of  Peter — Lord,  I  know  that  I  have  sinned,  1 
know  that  I  am  a  great  sinner;  yet  ''thou  knowest 
all  things;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee." 

There  is  one  test — nor  any  more  sure  in  the  labo 
ratory  of  the  chemist — by  which  to  distinguish  the 
godly  from  the  ungodly,  when  both  have  fallen  even 
into  the  very  same  sin.  It  is  worth  knowing,  and 
never  fails.  It  is  very  simple,  and  yet  a  most  sure 
criterion.  A  child  may  comprehend  it,  and  any  one 
may  apply  it.  I  pray  you  to  apply  it,  not  to  your  neigh- 
bors' cases  but  to  your  own — nor  reject  it  because  it 
is  humble,  and  plain,  and  sir/iple,  and  vulgar,  if  you 
will      It  is  the  test  by  which  you  may  know  a  sheep 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  819 

from  a  swine,  wlien  both  have  folleii  into  the  same 
slongh,  and  are,  in  fact,  so  bemired,  that  neither  by 
coat°nor  color  can  the  one  be  distinguished  from 
the  other.  How  then  distinguish  them?  Nothing 
more  easy!  The  unclean  animal,  in  circumstances 
agreeable  to  its  nature,  wallows  in  the  mire ;  but  the 
Bheep— type  of  the  godly— bleats,  and  strives,  and 
struggles  to  get  out. 


€\t  iau  fife 

(continued.) 

5  will cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  kecj  my  jtdg- 

ments,  and  do  them, — Ezektel  xxxvi.  27. 

The  predestination  which  I  believe  in,  is  that  of 
Paul — "  Whom  he  did  foreknow,  he  also  did  predes- 
tinate to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son."  To 
redeem  us  from  the  power,  as  well  as  punishment  of 
iniquity,  Jesus  died.  For  this  his  precious  blood  was 
shed — for  this  the  Spirit  has  descended.  We  are 
"called  with  a  holy  calling;" — called  to  pluck  the 
love  of  sin  from  our  hearts,  to  dethrone  every  idol 
that  usurps  the  place  of  God ;  and  having  nailed  to 
the  cross  the  old  man,  with  his  affections  and  lusts,  we 
we  are  called  to  be  like  Jesus.  His  meat  and  drink 
was  to  do  his  Father's  will.  He  was  "holy,  harmless, 
undefiled,  separate  from  sinners."  By  this  lofty  end 
of  a  good's  man's  life,  by  the  regard  which  3^ou  cherish 
to  Christ,  by  the  welfare  of  your  soul,  by  the  interest 
of  other  men's  souls,  you  are  called  to  beware  of  every 
thing  which  might  blemish  your  profession,  obscure  the 
luster  of  your  graces,  and  hinder  you  from  walking  in 
God's  statutes,  and  keeping  his  judgments,  and  doing 
them.  So  far,  therefore,  as  circumstances  permit  you, 
"  depart  from  evil,"  and  in  the  choice  of  your  com- 
pany and  companions,  follow  the  example  of  David, 
and  remember  the  warning  of  his  son,  "  I  am  a  com- 
panion to  all  them  that  fear  thee;" — "a  companion  of 


THE  HEW   LIFE.  82] 

fools  shall  be  destroyed."  Shun  the  place  of  infectioD, 
and — more  than  if  they  had  plague  or  fever — the  com- 
pany of  the  infected.  Avoid  and  abjure  every  scene, 
pleasure,  pursuit,  which  experience  has  taught  you 
tends  to  sin,  dulls  the  fine  set  edge  of  conscience, 
nfits  for  religious  duties  or  religious  enjoyments, 
ends  you  prayerless  to  bed,  or  dull  and  drowsy  to 
prayer.  As  the  seaman  does  with  surf-beaten  reef  or 
iron-bound  shore,  give  these  a  wide  berth ;  and  pass- 
ing on,  hold  away  in  your  course  straight  for  heaven. 
JSTever  fear  to  suffer;  but  Oh  !  fear  to  sin.  Stand  in 
awe  of  God,  and  in  fear  of  temptation.  "  Watch  and 
pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation."  It  is  not 
safe  to  bring  gunpowder  within  reach  even  of  a  spark. 
Nor  safe,  however  dexterous  your  driving,  to  shave 
with  your  wheels  the  edge  of  a  beetling  precipice. 
Nor  safe  in  the  best-built  bark  that  ever  rode  the 
waves,  to  sail  on  the  rim  of  a  roaring  whirlpool.  The 
seed  of  the  woman  has,  indeed,  bruised  the  head  of 
the  serpent ;  yet  beware !  the  reptile  is  not  dead.  It 
*s  dangerous  to  handle  an  adder,  or  approach  its 
poison  fangs,  if  the  creature  is  alive,  even  although 
its  head  be  crushed. 

Let  me  also  warn  you  that  such  a  holy  life  as  the 
text  enjoins,  is  impossible  to  all  but  those  who  are  on 
their  guard  against  the  beginnings  of  evil.  Take 
alarm  at  an  evil  thought,  wish,  desire.  These  are  the 
germs  of  sin — the  floating  seeds  which  drop  into  the 
heart,  and  finding  in  our  natural  corruption  a  fat  and 
favorable  soil,  spring  up  into  actual  transgressions. 
These,  like  the  rattle  of  the  snake,  the  hiss  of  the  ser- 
pent, reveal  the  presence  and  near  neighborhood  of 
danger.  The  experience  of  all  good  men  proves  that 
sin  is  most  easily  crushed  in  the  bud,  and  that  it  is 

14* 


822  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

safer  to  flee  from  temptation  than  to  fight  it.  Fight 
like  a  man  when  you  can  not  avoid  the  battle,  but 
rather  flee  th?n  fight.  Be  afraid  of  it,  avoid  it,  abhor 
it;  let  your  answer,  as  you  tear  j^ourself  from  the 
encircling  arms  of  the  enchantress,  and  seek  safety  in 
flight,  be  that  of  Josephs — "Shall  I  do  this  great 
evil,  and  sin  against  God?" 

True,  religion,  however,  consists  not  in  a  passive  but 
active  piety.  We  are  to  lualh  in  God's  statutes,  keep 
his  judgments,  and  do  them.  Our  pattern  is  not  the 
man  who  wears  a  monkish  cowl,  and  tells  his  beads, 
and  keeps  his  vigils,  and  goes  through  the  dull  routine 
of  prayers  and  fastings  within  the  walls  of  a  monas- 
tery ;  nor  she  who,  having  assumed  the  black  vail  and 
renounced  the  world,  seeks  safety  from  its  contamina- 
tion, or  solace  from  its  sorrows,  within  the  cell  and 
cloisters  of  a  convent.  The  pattern  of  a  Christian  is 
that  divine  man,  who — while  he  passed  a  brief  period 
of  probation  in  the  lonely  desert,  and  often  spent 
whole  nights  on  the  mountain  in  solitary  communion 
with  his  God — walked  the  fields  of  Galilee,  frequented 
the  fishing  villages  on  the  shores  of  Tiberias,  and  was 
often  to  be  met  with  in  Judah's  towns,  and  on  Jeru- 
salem's busy  streets.  Our  exemplar  is  he,  who,  wher- 
ever he  went,  "  went  about  doing  good,"  earning  for 
himself  this  noble  opprobrium,  "  the  friend  of  publi- 
cans and  sinners." 

Observe,  that  activity  of  Christian  life  is  implied  in 
the  very  terms  of  the  text.  Grant  that  we  may 
thereby  be  exposed  to  hardships  and  temptations, 
from  which  a  quiet  and  retiring  piety  might  exempt 
us.  Still,  a  life  of  active  service  will  be  best  for 
others,  and  in  the  end  also  for  ourselves.  A  candle 
eet  beneath  a  bushel  is,  no  doubt,  safe  from  wind  and 


THE  NEW  LIFE.  823 

wuLt  ler ;  but  of  what  use  is  it  ?  On  whose  work  does 
it  Bh  me  ?  Whose  path  does  it  illumine  ?  I  would 
rather  burn  and  waste  on  some  lofty  headland  to 
guide  the  bark  through  night  and  storm  to  its  desired 
haven.  No  light  shineth  for  itself,  and  "  no  man 
liveth  for  himself"  Besides,  the  very  trials  to  which 
piety  is  exposed  on  the  stormy  heights  of  duty,  will 
impart  to  it  a  robust  and  healthy  character.  The 
strongest  trees  grow  not  beneath  the  glass  of  a  green- 
house, or  in  the  protection  of  sheltered  and  shaded 
valleys.  The  stoutest  timber  stands  on  Norwegian 
rocks,  where  tempests  rage,  and  long,  hard  winters 
reign.  And  is  it  not  with  the  Christian  as  with  the 
animal  life  also  ?  Exercise  gives  health,  and  strength 
is  the  reward  of  activity.  The  muscles  are  seen  fully 
developed  in  the  brawny  arm  that  plies  the  ringing 
hammer.  Health  blooms  ruddiest  on  the  cheek,  and 
strength  is  most  powerfully  developed  in  the  limbs  of 
him,  who — not  nailed  to  a  sedentary  occupation,  nor 
breathing  the  close  atmosphere  of  heated  chambers — 
but  fearless  of  cold,  a  stranger  to  downy  pillows  and 
luxurious  repose,  rises  with  the  day,  sees  the  early 
worm  rise  in  the  dank  meadow,  and  hears  the  morn- 
ing lark  high  over  head,  and  passing  his  hours  in  ath 
letic  exercises,  increases  his  strength  by  spending  it. 
Even  so,  the  most  vigorous  and  healthy  piety  is  that 
which  is  the  busiest,  which  has  difficulties  to  battle 
with,  which  has  its  hands  full  of  good  works,  which 
has — I  may  say — neither  time  nor  room  for  evil,  but 
aiming  at  great  things,  both  for  God  and  man, 
promptly,  summarily  dismisses  temptation,  with  Ne- 
hemiah's  answer — '*  I  have  a  great  work  to  do,  there- 
fore I  cannot  come  down." 

This  world —with  so  many  living  and  dying  in  it 


824.  THE    GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

without  God  and  hope,  with  the  whole  heathen  world 
still  unconverted,  with  thousands  and  tens  of  thou- 
sands at  home  sunk  in  the  deepest  ignorance,  and 
slaves  of  the  vilest  sins,  with  members  of  our  families 
or  of  friendly  circles  far  from  God,  and  between  whom 
and  us — terrible  thought ! — death  would  make  an 
eternal  separation — has  much  need  that  we  were  up 
and  doing,  and  throwing  ourselves  into  the  cause  of 
active  Christianity.  Our  opportunities  of  good  are 
many  and  multiform.  A  Christian  man  should  feel 
like  some  strong  swimmer,  who  has  hundreds  around 
him  sinking,  drowning,  shrieking  for  help;  the  diffi- 
culty is  to  make  selection,  and  on  whose  unhappy 
head  first  to  lay  a  saving  hand.  Amid  such  scenes 
and  calls,  Oh,  it  is  lamentable  to  think  how  much  of 
our  time  has  been  frivolously  and  uselessly  spent. 
''  The  time  past  of  our  lives  has  been  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  have  wrought  the  will  of  the  flesh ;"  to  have 
enjoyed  our  own  ease,  made  money,  and  secured  for 
ourselves  the  comforts  of  life.  To  nobler  ends  be  its 
remaining  sands  devoted  !  Take  Christ  for  your  copy. 
Run  in  God's  statutes  without  wearying,  and  walk  in 
them  without  fainting-;  and  let  the  day  on  which  some 
good  has  not  been  done  to  ourselves  or  others — some 
glory  won  for  God,  some  progress  made  in  the  divine 
life — be  a  day  mourned  over,  wept  for,  and  this  writ- 
ten down  against  it  in  the  calendar  of  our  life — "I 
have  lost  a  day."  Our  Christianity  is  a  name,  a 
shadow,  unless  we  resemble  him  who,  being  incarnate 
God,  was  incarnate  goodness,  and  of  whom,  although 
he  stood  alone  in  that  hall — without  one  kind  or 
brave  voice  raised  to  speak  for  him — there  were  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  to  bear  this  testimony,  that  he 
went  about  doing  good,"  and  was  the  friend  both  of 


THE  NEW  LIFE.  325 

sufferers  and  sinners.  It  is  thus  that  we  ate  to  fulfill 
the  duties  of  the  Christian  life,  and  exhibit  a  living 
picture  of  one  in  whom  this  promise  is  fulfilled — '•  I 
will  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  to  keep  my 
judgments  and  do  them."  In  closing  my  observations 
on  this  part  of  our  subject,  I  remark — 

I  One  of  the  most  powei'ful  means  to  accom[)lish 
the  duty  of  the  text  is  to  cultivate  the  love  of  Christ. 

They  who  would  live  iike  Jesus  must  look  to  Jesus. 
What  effect  will  follow?  Look  at  the  sun — and  now 
to  the  eyes  which  have  been  bathed  in  his  dazzling 
beams,  how  do  other  objects  appear?  Why,  all  are 
changed.  Tliey  have  grown  dim,  if  not  dark  and  in- 
visible. Candles,  that  burned  bright,  have  no  flame ; 
flowers,  that  looked  beautiful,  have  no  color;  the  very 
diamond  has  lost  its  sparkling.  And  could  we  see 
Jesus  Christ  in  the  full  effulgence  of  his  Saviour 
glory,  all  sinful  and  even  all  common  created  objects, 
would  appear  to  undergo  some  such  change. 

We  see  but  through  a  glass  darkly.  The  dimness 
of  sin  impairs  our  vision,  but  were  we  to  see  Jesus, 
as  we  shall  see  him  in  heaven,  I  think  it  would  happen 
to  us  as  once  it  happened  to  a  celebrated  philosopher. 
Pursuing  his  discoveries  on  the  subject  of  light — with 
a  zeal  not  too  often  consecrated  to  science,  but  too 
seldom  consecrated  to  religion — he  ventured  on  a  bold 
experiment.  Without  protection  of  smoked  or  colored 
glass,  he  fixed  his  gaze  steadily,  for  some  time,  on 
the  sun — exposing  his  naked  eyes  to  the  burning 
beams  of  its  fiery  disc.  Satisfied,  he  turned  his  head 
away;  but,  strange  to  see!— such  was  the  impression 
made  on  the  organ  of  sight — wherever  he  turned,  the 
sun  was  there ;  if  he  looked  down,  it  was  beneath  his 


826  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

feet;  it  shone  in  the  top  of  the  sky  in  the  mirkest 
midnight;  it  blazed  on  the  page  of  every  book  he 
read ;  he  saw  it  when  he  shut  his  eyes,  he  saw  it  when 
he  opened  them.  It  was  the  last  object  which  he  saw 
when  he  passed  off  into  sleep ;  it  was  the  first  to  meet 
his  waking  eyes.  Happy  were  it  for  us  if  we  got 
some  such  sight  of  Christ,  and  this  glory  of  that  sun 
of  righteousness  were  so  impressed  upon  the  eye  of 
faith  that  we  could  never  forget  him,  and,  ever  seeing 
him,  ever  loved  him.  With  Christ  ever  present  to 
)ur  mind's  eye,  then  we  should  be  able  more  fully  to 
.ndopt  the  words  of  Paul,  and  say,  "  the  love  of  Christ 
ronstraineth  us,  because  we  thus  judge,  that  if  one 
died  for  all,  then  we  are  all  dead,  aud  that  he  died  for 
all,  that  they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live 
unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  who  died  for  them, 
and  rose  again." 

Experience  has  proved  that  of  all  instruments,  the 
mightiest  for  conversion  is  the  love  of  Jesus.  It  was 
only  "Christ  and  him  crucified,''  that  Paul  was  to 
know  and  preach  ;  and  in  every  age  of  the  church  and 
region  of  the  world  has  not  that  proved  the  rod  to 
smite  rocky  hearts  ?  Let  me  illustrate  the  fact  by  re- 
ferring to  oft-quoted  experience  of  some  Moravians 
who  had  gone  to  carry  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  to 
the  cold  clime  and  rude  savages  of  Greenland.  For 
what  reason  I  know  not,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  they  com- 
menced and  continued  for  months  to  preach  to  these 
savages  of  their  sins.  They  told  them  of  the  wrath  of 
God ;  they  sounded  Sinai's  thunders ;  they  blew  its 
loudest  trumpet  in  their  ears ;  they  appealed  to  their 
conscience,  to  their  fears,  to  their  self  love  and  self 
interest.  They  told  them  of  a  heaven  above,  with  a 
sun  that  never  set,  and  of   a  dark    and  dreary  hell 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  327 

below,  where  nor  sun,  nor  hope  ever  rose;  of  fire 
that  burned  and  a  worm  that  gnawed  incessantly. 
Thus  they  preached.  But  their  preaching  was  all 
in  vain.  The  aspect  of  their  hearers  had  its  couii* 
terpart  in  the  wintry  landscape  of  these  northern 
regions ;  characterized  by  perpetual  night — the  intens- 
est  cold — death-like  silence;  a  sunless  sky;  and  a 
sea  bound  fast  in  chains  of  ice.  These  good  men 
chanj'jed  their  plan.  They  chose  another  theme.  Ex- 
changing the  law  for  the  love  of  God,  they  preached 
of  Cidvary,  and  expatiated  on  the  love  which  brought 
Jesus  to  a  cross,  and  opened  his  blessed  arms  to  em- 
brace the  world.  The  effect  was  almost  as  immediate 
as  remarkable.  When  summer  came  and  the  snows 
melted  on  their  hills,  and,  with  sounds,  like  the  salvos 
of  cannon  that  announce  a  victory,  the  ice  broke  on 
these  frozen  seas;  and  beneath  the  beams  of  a  sun, 
which  blazed  at  midday,  nor  set  at  midnight,  the  earth 
■ — like  a  corpse  come  to  life — disrobed  itself  out  of  its 
snowy  shroud  ;  and  the  sea,  rejoicing  in  freedom  from 
its  icy  bonds,  with  tides  that  ebbed  and  flowed,  once 
more  answered  to  the  influences  of  heaven,  and  rising 
to  the  wind,  praised  God  night  and  day  with  the 
voices  of  its  roaring  breakers,  this  glorious  change 
was  but  a  picture  of  the  melting,  moving,  transform- 
ing, regenerating  power  felt  by  the  soul  of  the  poor, 
wondering  savage,  as  he  looked  with  weeping  eye  on 
the  love  of  Christ  and  the  bloody  cross  of  Calvary. 

As  the  love  of  Christ  to  us  is  the  mightiest  power 
to  awaken  faith,  so  in  the  love  of  our  hearts  to  Christ 
will  be  found  the  mightiest  power  to  secure  obedience, 
and  insure  our  walking  in  God's  statutes,  and  keeping 
his  judgmerts,  and  doing  them.  Therefore,  we  urge 
you  to  cultivate  it ;  for — 


828  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEU 

Love  is  the  most  2^oiverful  of  all  motives. 

Samson's  great  strength  lay  in  his  hair.  Shorn  of 
that,  he  was  hke  other  men.  The  Christian's  great 
strength  hes  in  his  love ;  and  when  Christ  invites  us 
to  sacrifices  and  sufferings  which  the  world  would 
pronounce  intolerable,  love  is  ready  to  explain  and 
justify  the  language  of  his  invitation — "Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  for  it  is 
easy,  and  my  burden,  for  it  is  light."  On  the  back  of 
love  the  burden  loses  more  than  half  its  w^eight,  and 
the  work  that  is  done  in  love  loses  more  than  half  its 
tedium  and  difficulty.  It  is  as  with  a  stone,  that  in 
the  air,  and  on  the  dry  ground,  we  strain  at,  but  can 
not  stir.  Flood  the  field  where  it  lies ;  bury  the  block 
beneath  the  rising  water.  Now  when  its  head  is  sub- 
merged, bend  to  the  work.  Put  your  strength  to  it. 
Ah  !  it  moves — it  rises  from  its  bed — it  rolls  on  before 
your  arm.  So,  when  the  tide  of  love  goes  swelling 
over  our  duties  and  difficulties,  a  child  can  do  a  man's 
work,  and  a  man  can  do  a  giant's.  With  love  in  the 
heart,  "  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings 
God  ordaineth  strength."  Strength  !  What  strength  ? 
Death  pulls  down  the  youngest  and  the  strongest; 
but  love  is  stronger  than  death.  She  welcomes  sacri- 
fices, and  glories  in  tribulation.  Duty  has  no  burden, 
and  death  has  no  terror  for  her. 

Look  at  that  bird,  which,  with  wings  outstretched, 
sits  dead  on  the  scorched  and  blackened  tree.  She 
might  have  flown  away  in  safety.  The  smoke  below 
alarmed  her.  Dashing  through  and  through  it  on. 
frightened  wing,  she  screamed,  as,  climbing  from 
branch  to  branch,  the  fire  rose  to  her  nest  and  brood. 
She  dashes  right  into  the  danger  ;  and,  perched  on  the 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  329 

brim  of  the  nest — a  tender  mother, — she  fans  her 
young  ones  with  her  wings.  Now  the  flames  lick  it 
with  their  fiery  tongues — she  leaves  her  perch.  False 
to  her  ofi^pring  ?  No.  A  true  mother.  She  aban- 
dons it — not  to  soar  away  to  heaven — but,  as  on  dewy 
nights  and  in  happier  hours,  to  seat  herself  above  her 
young  to  die  with  them;  and,  with  expanded  wings, 
protecting  them  to  the  last — to  be  found  dead  with 
a  dead  brood  beneath  her.  I  look  on  that — or  I  look 
on  this  other  mother,  who  stands  with  her  child  on 
the  side  of  the  sinking  wreck,  to  catch  the  last  chance 
of  a  passing  boat.  She  catches  it — not  to  leap  in  her- 
self; but,  lifting  her  boy  in  her  arms,  and  printing  a 
mother's  last  kiss  upon  his  rosy  lips,  she  drops  him  in, 
and  remains  behind  herself  to  drown  and  die.  Or  I 
look  at  that  maid  in  old  border  story,  who,  having 
caught  a  glance  of  the  arrow  that,  shot  by  a  rival's 
hand,  came  from  the  bushes  on  the  other  bank,  flung 
herself  before  her  lover,  and  received  the  fatal  sh'ot  in 
her  own  true  and  faithful  heart.  I  look  at  these 
things,  and,  seeing  that  love  is  strong  as  death,  I  urge 
you  to  cultivate  the  love  of  Jesus,  and  go  in  its  divine 
strength  to  the  field  of  duty,  and  the  altar  of  sacrifice. 
I  do  not  sa}^  that  you  will  find  it  easy  to  walk  in 
God's  statutes,  to  keep  Christ  ^  commandments,  and 
do  them.  To  pluck  sin  from  a  bleeding  heart — to  put 
our  right  hand  on  the  block  and  cut  it  off — to  pull  a 
right  eye  from  its  socket,  and  put  our  foot  upon  it — 
for  a  proud  man  to  learn  humility — for  a  lover  of  the 
world  not  to  love  it — for  one  who  has  strong  native 
corruption  to  nail  it  to  the  cross,  and  keep  it  nailed 
there  till  it  die — when  the  path  of  duty  is  strewed 
with  flints  and  thorns,  to  walk  over  them  with  bleed- 
ing feet — is,  and  n:iust  be  painful.     There  is  no  use  of 


330  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

concealing  t.  of  denying  it.  No.  But  all  tbe  more 
need  there  is  that  you  inflame  your  love  by  looking  to 
Christ.  Go  often,  and,  with  the  shepherds,  gaze  on 
the  heavenly  babe  laid  on  a  pallet  of  straw  in  the 
corner  of  a  manger.  With  the  disciples,  accompany 
him  to  Gethsemane,  and  sit  beneath  her  hoary  olives 
to  listen  in  the  stilly  night  to  the  moans  and  groans 
of  the  Son  in  the  hands  of  his  Father.  Or  join  the 
weeping  women,  and,  with  the  other  Marys  and  his 
fainting  mother,  take  up  your  station  near  the  awful 
cross,  and  meditate  on  these  things  till  you  can  say 
with  David,  "While  I  was  musing,  the  fire  burned." 

Love  is  a  motive  to  duty  as  pleasant  as  it  is  'powerful. 

Love  weaves  chains  that  are  tougher  than  iron,  and 
yet  softer  than  silk.  She  unites  the  strength  of  a 
giant  to  the  gentleness  of  a  little  child ;  and,  with  a 
power  of  change  all  her  own,  under  her  benign  and 
omnipotent  influence,  duties  that  were  once  intolera- 
ble drudgeries  become  a  pure  delight.  The  mother, 
for  instance,  away  from  scenes  of  gayety,  without 
which  to  others  and  once  also  to  herself  the  cup  ot 
life  was  flat  and  tasteless,  is  awakened  to  new  enjoy- 
ments. She  never  wearies  watching  by  her  infant's 
cradle ;  nor  does  she  grudge  the  nights  of  broken  rest, 
the  toils,  the  cares,  the  troubles  that  creature  costs  her, 
although  these  have  blanched  her  cheek  and  paled  the 
luster  of  her  eye.  To  cares  that  others  would  feel 
irksome,  she  cheerfully  devotes  herself,  even  before 
the  babe  can  lisp  her  name,  or  reward  her  kindness 
with  a  look  of  recognition  and  its  grateful,  winning 
Bmile.  Nor  does  the  father  weary  of  the  toil  that 
wins  his  children's  bread.  The  thought  of  these 
strengthens  the  arms  of  daily  labor,  Arcs  the  patriot's 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  831 

zeal,  kindles  a  soldier's  courage,  cheers  the  seaman  on 
his  lonely  watch,  and  reconciles  thousands  of  our  hon- 
est poor  to  a  life  of  incessant  struggle — carrying  them 
through  toils  and  hardships,  otherwise  intolerable, 
with  a  cheerful,  contented,  happy,  singing  spirit. 

You  would  think  it  a  most  weary  and  dreary  thing 
to  lead  the  life  which  that  mother  passes.  You  tliink 
so,  because  you  do  not  feel  her  love.  And  it  is  just 
because  they  are  strangers  to  the  love  of  Jesus — be 
cause  they  have  never  known  him,  nor  loved  him, 
that  many  can  not  comprehend  such  things  as — how 
a  pious  life  can  be  a  pleasant  one — how  any  man  can 
think  that  the  finest  music  is  the  sound  of  Sabbath 
bells — that  God's  is  the  best  house — and  the  Lord's 
the  best  table — how  a  man  of  exalted  grace  would 
rather  sit  down  with  a  pious  peasant  at  the  Lord's 
supper,  than  at  a  banquet  where  he  was  the  guest  of 
kings — and  how  King  David  should  have  thought  a 
day  spent  in  the  sanctuary  better  than  a  thousand 
passed  amid  the  stirring  scenes  of  a  camp,  or  the  glory 
and  luxuries  of  a  palace.  They  can  not  understand  how, ' 
unless  they  were  fools  or  fanatics,  the  disciples  should 
leave  the  judgment-seat  v/ith  bleeding  stripes,  and  re- 
joice that  they  were  counted  worthy  to  suffer  for 
Christ;  how  Paul  and  Silas  should  have  sung  as 
cheerfully  in  a  dungeon  as  ever  lark  that  shook  the 
night  dew  from  its  wings,  and  rose  to  greet  the  morn- 
ing sun ;  and  how  the  only  fear  of  that  brave  old  man, 
John  Welch,  in  yonder  rocky  prison  of  the  Bass,  was 
lest,  that  when  others  were  winning  the  crown  of  mar- 
tyrdom, he  should  miss  it,  nor  be  counted  worthy  of 
that  bloody  honor.  But  they,  in  some  measure  at 
least,  understand  these  things,  whose  pulse  beats  true 
to  the  law  of  God,  and  whose  heart  burns  with  the 


332  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

love  of  Christ.  To  the  feet  of  love  the  ways  of  that 
law  are  like  the  fresh  and  flowery  sward,  "  ways  of 
pleasantness  and  paths  of  peace."  Love  changes  bond- 
age into  liberty,  and,  delighting  in  that  law  which 
was  once  to  us  what  his  chain  is  to  the  dog,  what  his 
task  is  to  the  slave,  and  against  which  our  corrupt 
passions  once  foamed  and  fretted  like  angry  seas  on 
their  iron  shores,  she  takes  up  the  harp  of  David,  and 
thus  sings  its  praises  ; — "  The  law  of  the  Lord  is  per- 
fect, converting  the  soul ;  the  statutes  of  the  Lord  arc 
right,  rejoicing  the  heart;  the  judgments  of  the  Lord 
are  true,  and  righteous  altogether ;  more  to  be  desired 
are  they  than  gold,  yea,  than  much  fine  gold  ;  sweeter 
also  than  honey  and  the  droppings  of  the  honeycomb." 
"  Oh  !  how  I  love  thy  law,  0  Lord  ;  it  is  my  medita- 
tion all  the  day." 

IL  A  powerful  motive  to  the  duties  of  the  text  lies 
in  the  fact,  that  by  our  obedience  to  these  statutes  the 
verdict  of  judgment  shall  be  settled. 

We  are  saved  by  grace,  but  shall  be  tried  by  works. 
"We  are  to  be  judged  by  the  "  deeds  done  in  the 
body  whether  they  were  good  or  bad."  "  Every  one 
of  us,"  says  Paul,  "  shall  give  account  of  himself  to 
God."  Oh  !  how  should  these  solemn  truths  hedge, 
Avail  up  our  path  to  a  close  and  holy  walk  in  his  stat- 
utes !  The  great  realities  of  eternity  are  projected  in 
outline  on  the  field  of  time,  and  this  world  lies  under 
the  long,  solemn  shadow  of  coming  events.  Imagine 
them  come — the  day  of  judgment  come  !  For  what- 
ever purpose  met,  there  is  something  most  impressive 
in  the  spectacle  of  a  great  multitude ;  that  vast  sea  of 
faces — that  mighty  aggregate  of  human  beings  with 
living  hearts,  immortal  souls,  eternal  destinies — all  in 
a  few  years  to  be  dead  and  gone ;  and  the  joys  and 


THE   NEW  LIFE.  333 

sorrows,  the  fears  and  hopes,  that  now  animate  and 
agitate  them,  cold  and  buried  in  the  dust.  But  how 
unspeakably  more  solemn  a  world  come  from  their 
graves  to  judgment!  and  amid  circumstances  of  ter- 
rible and  transcendent  sublimity — thunders  that  rend 
the  skies — the  perpetual  hills  passing  away — burning 
mountains  hurled  into  boiling  seas — the  sun  dying — 
the  starry  heavens  rolling  up  like  a  scroll — and  all 
eyes  fixed  on  the  "great,  white  throne,"  which  rises 
in  lonely  majesty  high  above  the  countless  crowd. 

It  shall  be  a  solemn  thing  to  meet  the  dead  again, 
and  see  those — father  and  mother,  children,  our  breth- 
ren— who  are  now  moldering  in  the  dust.  How  sol- 
emn it  was  to  part  with  them — to  stand  by  the  dying 
bed,  and  look  on  as  they  passed  away,  till  we  heard 
life's  departing  sigh,  and  saw  the  last  convulsion 
quiver  on  the  lip  of  one  that  was  our  own.  But  the 
meeting  of  those  who,  although  lying  side  by  side, 
have  been  long  parted — who,  although  their  coffins 
and  dust  commingle,  have  held  no  communion  in 
these  silent  graves,  will  be  a  more  solemn  thing ;  and 
an  awful  thing,  if  we  should  meet,  as  many  shall  meet 
— how  dreadful  the  thought ! — with  mutual  accusa- 
tions and  bitter  recriminations ;  awful,  overwhelming, 
unless  we  meet  with  mutual  congratulations,  to  spend 
eternity  together  in  a  better  than  our  old,  earthly 
home — in  the  mansions  where  friends  meet  to  part  no 
more. 

Still  the  solemnity  rises.  If  it  shall  be  a  solemn 
thing  to  find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  the  dead, 
how  much  more  solemn  to  stand  face  to  face  with  the 
great  Judge  both  of  the  quick  and  dead.  We  have 
read — we  have  often  thought  of  Jesus  Christ,  till  we 
felt  as  if  we  saw  him.     We  have  followed  him  in 


oSi  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

fancy's  vision  tlirougli  the  checkered  scenes  of  his 
earthly  history — along  his  rough  and  bloody  path, 
from  the  night  that  angels  sung  his  advent,  to  the  day 
when  they  returned  to  escort  the  conqueror  home. 
"We  have  seen  his  form  stretched  out — for  want  of  a 
better  bed — upon  the  dewy  field,  or  wrapped  up  in 
coarse  boat-cloak  as  he  lay  buried  in  slumber  amid 
the  storm  on  Galilee.  We  have  seen  the  eyes  of  pity 
he  bent  on  the  weeping  Magdalene — the  expression 
of  reproachful  love  he  cast  on  a  recreant  disciple — 
that  dying  look,  so  full  of  fond  affection,  which  he 
turned  on  a  fainting  mother.  We  have  seen  him 
standing  calm  and  collected  before  a  prejudiced  and 
time-serving  judge,  patient  and  self-possessed  beneath 
the  bloody  scourge,  mute  and  meek  before  the  frenzied 
multitude;  and  as  we  watched  the  successive  events 
of  the  cross,  we  have  seen  the  joy — typified  by  the 
passing  away  of  this  eclipse — that  gleamed  in  his 
dying  eyes  as  he  raised  them  to  heaven  and  cried,  "  It 
is  finished."  We  have  often  in  fancy  seen  him.  When 
our  dust  revives,  and  the  grave  that  is  now  awaiting 
us  shall  give  up  its  dead,  with  these  very  eyes  we 
shall  see  him — by  the  light  of  a  world  in  flames  we 
shall  see  him,  a  Grod- enthroned  for  judgment. 

Tlie  day  grows  yet  more  solemn ;  its  solemnity 
reaches  its  highest  point,  and  culminates  in  the  mo- 
mentous issues  of  judgment.  It  is  God's  day  of  set- 
tlement with  a  world  that  has  had  along  credit.  It  is 
tlie  winding  up  of  this  earth's  bankrupt  estate,  and 
each  man's  individual  interests.  It  is  the  closing  of 
an  open  account  that  has  been  running  on  ever  since 
the  Fall.  It  is  the  day  when  the  balance  is  struck, 
and  our  fate  is  heaven  or  hell ;  and  what  invests  my 
text  with  solemn  and  sublime  importance  is  this,  that 


THE   NEW  LIFE.  83o 

bj  the  maimer  in  whicli  we  have  walked  in  these 
statutes,  and  kept  these  judgments,  and  done  them, 
shall  our  destiuy  be  determined.  The  most  common 
action  of  life,  its  every  day,  every  hour,  is  invested 
with  a  solemn  grandeur,  wdien  we  think  how  they  ex- 
tend their  issues  into  eternity.  Our  hands  are  now 
sowing  seed  for  that  great  harvest.  We  shall  meet 
again  all  w^e  are  doing  and  have  done.  The  graves 
shall  give  np  their  dead,  and  from  the  tombs  of  ob- 
livion the  past  shall  give  up  all  that  it  holds  in  keeping, 
to  be  witness  for  or  witness  against  us.  Oh,  think  of 
that,  and  in  yonder  hall  of  the  Inquisition,  see  what 
its  effect  on  us  should  be.  Within  those  blood-stained 
walls,  for  whose  atrocious  cruelties  Eome  has  yet  to 
answer,  one  is  under  examination.  He  has  been  as- 
sured that  nothing  he  reveals  shall  be  written  for  the 
purpose  of  being  used  against  him.  Yfhile  making 
frank  and  ingenuous  confession  he  suddenly  stops. 
He  is  dumb — a  mute.  They  ply  him  with  questions, 
flatter  him,  threaten  him ;  he  answers  not  a  word. 
Danger  makes  the  senses  quick.  His  ear  has  caught  a 
sound;  he  listens;  it  ties  his  tongue.  An  arras  hangs 
beside  him,  and  behind  it  he  hears  a  pen  running 
along  the  pages.  The  truth  flashes  on  him.  Behind 
that  screen  a  scribe  sits  committing  to  the  fatal  page 
every  word  he  says,  and  he  shall  meet  it  all  again  on 
the  day  of  trial.  Ah  !  how  solemn  to  think  that  there 
is  such  a  pen  going  in  heaven,  and  entering  on  the 
books  of  judgment  all  w^e  say,  or  wish,  all  we  think, 
we  do.  AVould  to  God  we  heard  it — every  where,  and 
always  heard  it !  What  a  check  !  and  what  a  stimulus ! 
Are  we  about  to  sin,  how  strong  a  curb ;  if  slow  to 
duty,  how  sharp  a  spur.  What  a  motive  to  pray  for 
the  blood  that  blots  out  a  guilty  past,  and  for  such 


836  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZKKIEL. 

grace,  as,  in  time  to  come,  sball  enable  us  to  walk  in 
God's  statutes,  to  keep  his  judgments,  and  to  do  them. 
Do  any  flatter  themselves  that,  as  to  their  sins  and 
transgressions,  God  hath  not  seen,  or  doth  not  regard, 
or  hath  forgotten  ?  Most  fatal  delusion  !  "  I  have 
seen  all  that  Laban  hath  done  unto  thee,"  said  the 
Lord  to  Jacob  in  a  dream.  "  Surely  I  have  seen 
yesterday  the  blood  of  Naboth,"  are  his  words  to 
Elijah,  when  he  sends  away  his  ambassador  with  a 
commission  to  throw  down  the  gauntlet  at  a  king's 
feet,  and  to  proclaim  war  between  heaven  and  the 
bloody  house  of  Ahab.  Naboth  has  been  foully  mur- 
dered, but  lies  quiet  in  his  bloody  shroud.  The  crime 
is  concealed.  Cunning  and  cruelty  have  triumphed  ; 
and  no  living  man  now  stands  between  Ahab  and  the 
vineyard.  His  evil  genius  approaches  his  bed.  "  Arise," 
says  his  wife,  "  Naboth  is  dead,  arise  and  take  possess- 
ion." The  king  rises,  rides  down  in  royal  state  to 
Jezreel,  and  luxuriates  among  the  clustered  grapes  of 
his  ill-got  possession.  Suddenly  a  man  clothed  in 
rough  garment,  unsummoned,  unwelcomed,  appears 
upon  the  scene,  and  intrudes  himself  on  royalty.  It 
is  Elijah.  With  steady  step  and  stern  look,  he  marches 
r.p  to  Ahab,  and,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  quailing 
coward,  asks,  "  Hast  thou  killed  and  also  taken  pos- 
session ?  In  the  place  where  dogs  licked  the  blood  of 
Naboth,  they  shall  lick  thy  blood,  even  thine."  Tread 
upon  a  worm  and  it  will  turn  on  you.  To  be  a  king, 
and  yet  be  bearded  before  his  court  by  this  rude,  un- 
mannerly intruder,  to  have  the  damning  deed — which 
flad  been  contrived  with,  such  cunning,  and  executed 
with  such  success — dragged  out  from  its  concealment 
by  this  bold  hand  into  the  light  of  day,  to  be 
branded  before  his  courtiers,  and  proclaimed  through* 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  337 

out  all  the  country  as  Naboth's  murderer,  stirs — if  not 
the  courage — at  least  the  wrath  of  Ahab.  With  guilt 
on  his  scowling  brow,  and  malignant  anger  burning 
in  his  eyes,  he  turns  on  the  prophet,  saying,  "  Ilast 
thou  found  mc,  0  mine  enemy  ?"  "I  have  found  thee," 
was  tlie  calm,  terrible,  intrepid  answer.. 

Impenitent  and  unbelieving  sinner!  flatter  not  thy- 
self that  God  hath  not  seen,  or  doth  not  regard  ;  fancy 
not  that  thy  crimes  are  buried  in  a  grave  deeper  than 
Naboth's,  and  that,  as  the  dust  of  death  lies  on  the 
lips  of  the  partners  or  witnesses  of  thy  guilt,  therefore 
you  may  bj  at  ease,  since  the  dead  tell  no  tales.  The 
day  is  coming  when  every  unpardoned  sin  shall  find 
out  its  father  ; — when  what  has  been  done  in  darkness 
shall  be  revealed  in  daylight,  and  the  word  whispered 
in  the  ear  shall  be  published  upon  the  house-top.  We 
shall  be  tried  by  our  obedience  to  these  statutes  and 
judgments.  We  have  often  disobeyed  them,  and  if, 
on  that  dread  day,  we  would  not  have  these  sins  to 
meet  us  as  Elijah  met  the  king — if  we  would  meet  not 
our  sins  but  our  Saviour,  Oh  let  us  have  recourse  now 
to  the  blood  that  blotteth  them  out.  Without  a  par 
don,  Jesus  shall  have  no  answer  to  us  but  one,  the 
terrible  reply  of  Jehu,  "  What  hast  thou  to  do  with 
peace?" 

Peace ! — Yes,  there  shall  be  peace- — "  Being  justified 
by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ;"  and  the  secret  of  our  peace  shall  lie  in 
that  which  held  up  the  head  of  a  royal  favorite,  while 
undergoing  trial  before  his  country  for  a  very  hein(xir> 
crime.  Men  wondered  at  his  strange  serenity,  and 
how  he  could  bear  himself  so  calmly.  He  passed  on 
to  the  bar  without  a  cloud  upon  his  brow,  or  an  ex- 
pressJon  of  anxiety  in  his  eye,  as  he  looked  around 

15 


338  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL 

him  on  judges,  accusers,  the  crowd  of  anxious  specta* 
tors.  Tlie  trial  began.  His  case  grew  darker  and 
darker — not  so  his  aspect.  Witness  after  witness  bore 
crushing  evidence  against  him,  yet  the  keen  eyes  of 
his  enemies  could  detect  no  quiver  on  his  lip,  or  shade 
upon  his  brow.  Long  after  hope  had  expired  in  the 
breast  of  anxious  friends,  and  they  looke-d  on  him  as 
u  doomed  man,  there  he  was,  looking  round  serenely 
on  that  terrible  array.  His  pulse  beat  calm,  nor  started 
suddenly,  but  went  on  with  a  stately  march;  while 
peace  sat  enthroned  upon  his  placid  brow.  When  at 
length,  amid  the  silence  of  the  hushed  assembly,  the 
verdict  of  "Guilty"  is  pronounced,  he  rises.  Erect 
in  attitude,  in  demeanor  calm,  he  stands  up,  not  to 
receive  the  sentence — which  was  already  trembling  on 
the  judge's  lip — but  to  reveal  the  secret  of  this  strange 
peace  and  self-possession.  He  thr.usts  his  hand  into 
his  bosom,  and  lays  on  the  table  a  pardon — a  full,  free 
pardon  for  his  crimes,  sealed  with  the  royal  signet. 

Would  to  God  we  all  were  as  well  prepared !  Then 
fare  ye  well,  earth,  sun,  moon,  and  stars;  fare  ye  well, 
wife  and  children,  brothers  and  sisters,  sweet  friends, 
and  all  dear  to  us  here  below.  Welcome  death,  wel 
come  judgment,  welcome  eternity;  welcome  God  and 
Christ,  angels  and  saints  made  perfect,  welcome  heaven 
In  the  grace  that  leads  to  a  holy  walk,  in  some  mea- 
sure of  godly  obedience  to  these  statutes,  in  the  faith 
t^at  worketh  by  love,  purifieth  the  heart,  and  over- 
cometh  the  world,  have  you  the  evidence  that  you 
are  forgiven  ?  In  these,  do  you  carry  in  your  bosom 
God's  pardon,  ready  to  be  produced  when  you  are 
summoned,  to  trial?  Look  forward  without  fear  to 
the  great  account.  These  shall  be  witnesses  that  you 
have   received   the   righteousness    which    makes   the 


THE   NEW   LIFE.  .  839 

sinner  just.  Best  of  all  shrouds,  may  you  be  wrapped 
in  the  "  clean  linen  "  of  Jesus'  righteousness  !  With 
that  robe  around  you  may  you  rise  from  the  grave  ! 
— this  your  plea — "  Almighty  God !  of  my  own  works 
I  have  nothing  to  say  but  this,  What  is  bad  in  them 
is  mine ;  what  is  good  in  them  is  thine.  Behold  this 
pardon — look  on  this  robe,  and  know  now  whether  it 
be  thy  Son's  coat  or  no." 


THE 

Mature;  llecessitji,  midi  f  otoer  of  f  nijier, 

I  will  yet  for  this  be  iaquired  of  by  the  house  of  Israel,  to  do  it  for 
them. — EzEKiEL  xxxvi.  37. 

In  pursuing  liis  voyage  to  tlie  shores  of  the  new 
world  the  seaman  steers  southward.  His  object  is  to 
catch  the  trade  wind.  It  blows  so  steadily  from  east 
to  west,  that  having  once  caught  it  in  his  sails  he  has 
often  nothing  else  to  do.  With  his  ship's  head  set 
before  that  wind,  he  is  borne  steadily  along  beneath  a 
brilliant  sun,  and  gently  wafted  over  a  summer  sea. 
His  voyage  is  one  extended,  happy  holiday.  The 
thrilling  cry  of  land  comes  at  length  from  the  out-look 
on  the  topmast,  and  he  drops  his  anchor  in  some  quiet 
bay  of  those  lovely  islands,  where  the  waves  wash 
coral  strands,  and  the  breezes  that  blow  seaward  from 
their  spicy  forests,  come  loaded  with  delicious  per- 
fumes. 

It  is  not  thus  man  reaches  the  shores  of  heaven, 
That  landing  may  be  a  picture  of  his  arrival — the 
voyage  is  not.  In  yonder  vessel,  which  enters  the 
harbor  with  masts  sprung,  sails  in  rags,  bulwarks 
gone,  bearing  all  the  marks  of  having  battled  with 
many  a  storm  and  ridden  many  a  crested  wa\  e,  and 
on  her  deck  a  crew  of  weather-beaten  and  worn  men, 
happy  and  glad  to  reach  the  land  again — beh 'Id -the 
plight  in  which  the  believer  arrives  at  heaven  It  is 
hard  work  to  get  there?  No  doubt  of  it.  Paul, 
the  man,  in  labors  more  abundant,  in  stripes   •«bove 


rUE  NECESSITY  AND   POWER  OF   PRAYER.       341 

measure,  in  prisons  more  frequent,  in  deaths  of — 
Paul,  tLe  martyr,  thrice  beaten  with  rods,  once 
stoned,  thrice  shipwrecked,  in  journejings  often,  in 
perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of  robbers,  in  perils  bj  his 
countrymen,  by  the  heathen,  in  the  city,  in  the  wilder- 
ness, on  the  sea — Paul,  the  patient  sufferer  for  Christ, 
of  a  life  of  weariness,  and  painfulness,  and  watchings, 
hunger,  thirst,  fastings,  cold,  nakedness — Paul  even 
stood  alarmed,  lest  he  himself  should  be  a  castaway. 
*^  The  righteous  scarcely  are  saved."  The  busiest  in 
praying,  watching,  working,  fighting,  are  no  more  than 
saved.  O  then,  ''if  the  righteous  scarcely  are  saved, 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  wicked  appear  ?" 

My  text  summons  you  to  prayer.  But  does  any 
man  think,  that,  by  repeating  a  daily  prayer — learned 
long  ago  perhaps  at  his  mother's  knee,  reading  some 
verses  of  Scripture,  abstaining  from  grosser  sins,  at- 
tending church  on  Sabbath,  and  the  Lord's  table  on 
communion  days,  he  is  by  this  smooth  and  easy  way 
to  reach  the  kingdom,  and  receive  its  crown?  What 
says  our  Lord,  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  suflfereth 
violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force ;"  it  is  the 
prize  of  men  who  are  valiant  in  faith  and  strong  in 
prayer — men  like  those  who,  at  bugle's  sound  or  flare 
of  rocket,  rush  from  the  trenches,  and  springing  into 
the  deadly  breach — leaping  into  the  very  mouth  of 
death — fight  their  way  on  and  up  till  their  flag  of 
victory  waves  above  the  smoke  of  battle. 

Or,  take  Paul's  figure  of  the  energies  and  activities 
of  the  Christian  life.  Look  at  these  two  men,  strip- 
ped to  the  skin,  who  stand  fiice  to  face,  confronting 
each  other  in  the  public  arena.  They  have  been  in 
training  for  weeks  and  months.  Strangers  to  the 
pleasures  of  ease  and  sweets  of  luxury,   they   have 


842  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

been  on  foot  every  day  by  the  dawn.  Abstaining 
from  all  indulgences  which  might  enervate  their 
frame,  in  hard  bed,  hard  food,  hard  work,  they  have 
endured  every  trial  which  could  develop  their  mus- 
cular powers,  and  add  to  their  strength.  And  now 
these  athletes  are  met  to  contend  for  the  prize ;  foot 
touches  foot,  eyes  watch  eyes,  and  their  spare  but 
sinewy  and  iron  forms  are  disrobed,  that  nothing  may 
impede  the  lightning  rapidity  of  their  movements,  or 
lessen  the  power  of  the  stroke.  The  signal  is  given. 
Blows  fall  thick  as  hail ;  and  now  the  candidates  are 
rolling  on  the  ground ;  now  they  emerge  from  a  cloud 
of  dust  to  continue  the  fight,  till  one — planting  a  tre- 
mendous stroke  on  the  head  of  his  antagonist — stands 
alone  in  the  arena,  and  amid  applauses  that  rend  the 
sky  and  waken  up  the  distant  echoes,  holds  the  field. 
At  this  moment  Paul  steps  forward,  and,  addressing 
Christians,  says,  So  fight;  so  win.  "They  do  it  to 
obtain  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we  an  incorruptible." 

Woe  to  the  man,  in  these  old  games,  who  allowed 
his  competitor  to  catch  him  off  his  guard.  Woe  to 
the  man  who  turned  to  look  on  father,  mother,  wife, 
or  mistress.  Woe  to  the  man  who  lifted  his  eyes  but 
for  a  moment  from  the  glaring  eyeball  of  his  antago- 
nist ;  that  moment  a  ringing  blow  fells  him  to  the 
earth — he  bites  the  dust. 

Not  less  does  our  safety  depend  on  constant  prayer 
and  watchfulness.  "Be  instant  in  prayer."  "Pray 
without  ceasing."  "Watch  and  pray."  Ah  I  you 
will  never  have  to  offer  Satan  an  advantage  twice. 
Should  he  catch  you  asleep,  as  David  caught  Saul — 
when  he  put  aside  the  spear  of  Abashai  that  gleamed 
in  the  moonlight  above  the  unconscious  sleeper,  and 
whispered,   "Destroy  him  not" — Satan  will  not   bo 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       843 

satisfied  with  carrying  off  spear  and  water-cruse,  or 
skirt  of  robe ;  lie  will  not  be  content  to  prove  how  he 
had  you  in  his  power,  and  that,  like  a  noble  enemy 
who  declines  to  take  advantage  of  a  sleeping  man,  he 
had  generously  left  you  your  peace  and  piety.  Con- 
stant prayer,  unceasing  watchfulness,  are  what  your 
interests  imperatively  demand.  These  the  Christian 
life  requires,  and  these  the  crown  of  redemption  re- 
wards. Observe  how  in  my  text  God  bangs  all  the 
blessings  of  salvation  upon  prayer.  He  says — as  it 
were — I  have  had  pity  upon  sinners ;  I  have  provided 
pardon  for  the  guilty,  justification  through  the  riglit- 
eousness,  and  life  through  the  death  of  my  Son ;  I 
have  promised  to  take  away  the  heart  of  stone  and 
replace  it  with  one  of  flesh;  I  have  promised  my 
Spirit  to  sanctify,  sufficient  grace,  a  certain  heaven — 
all  these  blood-bought,  gracious,  happy,  holy  blessings 
shall  be  3^ours,  freely  yours  ;  yet  not  yours,  unless 
they  are  sought  in  prayer.  "I  will  yet  for  this  be 
enquired  of  by  the  house  of  Israel,  to  do  it  for  them." 
In  directing  your  attention  to  prayer,  let  me  notice — 

I.  Kature  itself  teaches  us  to  praj. 

Like  our  intuitive  belief  in  the  existence  of  the  soul, 
or  in  man's  responsibility,  there  seems  to  be  lodged  in 
every  man's  breast,  what  I  may  call  an  instinct  to 
pray,  and  an  intuitive  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer. 
Prayer  must  be  natural,  because  it  is  universal.  Never 
yet  did  traveler  find  a  nation  upon  earth  but  prayed 
in  some  form  or  other  to  some  demon  or  god.  Eaces 
of  men  have  been  found  without  raiment,  without 
houses,  without  manufactures,  without  the  rudiments 
of  arts,  but  never  without  prayers ;  no  more  than 
without  speech,  human  features,  or  human  passions. 


344  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

Prajer  is  universal,  and  seems  to  be  as  natural  to 
man  as  tlie  feelings  which  prompt  an  infant  to  draw 
the  milk  of  a  mother's  bosom,  and  bj  its  cries  to  claim 
a  mother's  protection.  Even  so  man  is — as  it  were 
instinctively — moved  to  cast  himself  into  the  arms  of 
God,  to  seek  divine  help  in  times  of  danger,  and  in 
times  of  sorrow  to  weep  on  the  bosom  of  a  Father 
who  is  in  heaven. 

Nature  and  necessity  have  wrung  prayers  even 
from  an  atheist's  lips. 

There  was  a  celebrated  poet,  who  was  an  atheist — • 
or  at  least  professed  to  be  so.  According  to  him  there 
w{i,s  no  God.  Very  strange !  A  rude  heap  of  bricks 
shot  from  a  cart  upon  the  ground  was  never  seen  to 
arrange  itself  into  the  doors,  stairs,  chambers,  and 
chimneys  of  a  house.  The  dust  and  tilings  on  a  brass- 
founder's  table  had  never  been  known  to  form  them- 
selves into  the  wheels  and  mechanism  of  a  watch. 
The  types  loosely  flung  from  the  founder's  mould 
never  yet  fell  into  the  form  of  a  poem,  such  as  Homer, 
or  Dante,  or  Milton  would  have  constructed.  Tiie 
rudest  hut  of  Bushmen,  the  Indian's  simple  canoe — 
fashioned  by  fire  from  a  forest  tree,  the  plainest  clay 
urn,  in  which  savage  affection  had  enshrined  the  ashes 
of  the  dead,  were  never  supposed  to  owe  their  form 
to  the  hands  of  chance.  Yet  this  man  believed  (if  it 
is  possible  to  think  so,)  that  nature's  magnificent 
temple  was  built  without  an  architect,  her  flowers  of 
glorious  beauty  were  colored  without  a  painter,  and 
her  intricate,  complicated,  but  perfect  machinery  con- 
structed without  an  intelligent  mind.  According  to 
him  there  was  no  God — the  belief  in  a  God  was  a  delu- 
sion,  prayer  a  base  superstition,  and  religion  but  the 
iron    fetters  of  a  rapacious    priesthood.     So  he  held 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER  OF   PRAYER.       345 

wlien  sailinoj  over  the  unruffled  surface  of  th:,  ^creau 

o  o 

Sea.  But  the  scene  changed ;  and,  with  the  scene, 
his  creed.  The  heavens  began  to  scowl  on  him  ;  and 
the  deep  uttered  an  angry  voice,  and,  as  if  in  aston- 
ishment at  this  God-denying  man,  "  hfted  up  his  handa 
on  high."  The  storm  increased  until  the  ship  became 
>inmanageable.  She  drifted  before  the  tempest.  The 
terrible  cry,  "breakers  ahead!"  was  soon  heard; 
lAud  how  they  tremble  to  see  death  seated  on  the  hor- 
rid reef — waiting  for  his  prey  !  A  few  moments  more, 
and  the  crash  comes.  They  are  whelmed  in  the 
devouring  sea?  No.  They  were  saved  by  a  singular 
providence.  Like  apprehended  evils,  which,  in  a 
Christian's  experience,  prove  to  be  blessings,  the 
wave,  which  flung  them  forward  on  the  horrid  reef, 
came  on  in  such  mountain  volame  as  to  bear  and  float 
them  over  into  the  safety  of  deep  and  ample  sea-room. 
But  ere  that  happened,  a  companion  of  the  atheist — • 
who,  seated  on  the  prow,  had  been  taking  his  last  re- 
gretful look  of  heaven  and  earth,  sea  and  sky — turned 
his  eyes  down  upon  the  deck,  and  there,  among  pa- 
pists, who  told  their  beads  and  cried  to  the  virgin,  he 
saw  the  atheist  prostrated  with  fear.  The  tempest  had 
blown  away  his  flne-spun  speculations  like  so  many 
cobwebs;  and  he  was  on  his  knees,  imploring  God 
for  mercy.  In  that  hour — in  that  terrible  extremity 
— Nature  rose  in  her  might,  asserted  her  supremacy, 
vindicated  the  claims  of  religion,  smote  down  infi- 
delity by  a  stroke,  and  bent  the  stubborn  knees  of 
atheism  in  lowliest  prayer. 

Danger  may  thus  extort  praj^er  ;  it  does  not  follow 
that  God  will  accept  it.  How  can  a  man  expect  to 
have  prayers  accepted  which  are  only  wrung  from  him 
by  the  hand  of  danger  or  the  fear  of  death  ?     Let  us 

15* 


846  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

translate  their  language  ?  Is  it  not  this  ?  1  will  serve 
my  lusts  as  long  as  I  dare.  So  long  as  I  can  say  it 
safely,  I  will  say — Evil  be  thou  my  good ;  my  vices, 
be  ye  my  gods  ;  I  will  turn  to  religion  when  I  can  do 
no  better.  Does  Jesus  stand  at  my  door?  are  his 
locks  wet  with  the  dews  of  night?  are  his  limbs  weary 
standing  ?  is  his  hand  weary  knocking  ?  Till  another 
hand  is  knocking  there — the  loud,  impatient  hand  of 
death — Jesus  comes  not  in.  "  What  have  I  to  do 
with  thee,  thou  Son  of  God  ?"  With  thy  religion — 
"Art  thou  come  to  torment  me  before  the  time?" 
"  Go  thy  way  at  this  time :  when  I  have  a  convenient 
season  I  will  call  for  thee." 

In  the  name  of  reason,  religion,  gratitude,  love,  is 
this  the  treatment  which  a  Saviour  deserves?  De- 
luded sinner  !  "  Is  this  thy  kindness  to  thy  friend?" 
Beware !  What  if  he  should  mete  out  to  us  the  meas- 
ure we  mete  to  him  ?  Eemember  the  warning — "I 
have  spoken,  and  ye  have  not  heard ;  I  have  called, 
and  ye  have  not  answered  ;  when  ye  speak  I  will  not 
hear ;  when  ye  call  I  will  not  answer.  I  will  laugh 
at  your  calamity,  and  mock  when  your  fear  cometh." 

II.  Some  difliculties  connected  with  this  duty. 

The  decrees  of  God,  say  some,  render  prayer  use- 
less. Are  not  all  things,  they  ask,  fixed  by  these  de- 
crees— irrevocably  fixed  ?  By  prayer  I  may,  indeed, 
prevail  on  a  man  to  do  a  thing  which  he  has  not  pre- 
viously resolved  not  to  do,  and  even  although  he 
should  have  so  resolved — man  is  changeable  ;  and  I 
may  show  him  such  good  reasons  for  doing  it,  as  to 
change  his  resolution.  But  if  an  immutable  God  ha9 
foresettled  every  thing  by  an  eternal  and  irreversible 
decree,  what  purpose  can  prayer  serve  ?     Who  shall 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       o-l? 

cliange  the  unchangeable  ?  Thus  men  have  argued, 
saying — ''What  profit  shall  we  have  if  we  should 
pray  unto  him  ?" 

It  were  not  difficult  to  expo^^e  the  fallacy  of  this 
reasoning.  The  objection  may  be  entirely  answered. 
We  might  show  that  the  decrees  of  God  embrace  the 
means  as  well  a?  the  end  ;  and  since  prayer  is  a  means 
of  grace,  being  a  means  to  an  end,  it  must  be  em- 
braced within  these  very  decrees,  and  can  not  be  ex- 
cluded by  them.  I  content  myself,  however,  with 
simply  saying,  that  this  objection  is  not  honcstl3\  at 
least  not  intelligently,  entertained  by  any  man.  For, 
if  the  objection  is  good  against  prayer,  it  is  good 
against  many  things  besides.  If  it  stops  action  in  the 
direction  of  prayer — if  it  arrests  the  whtcls  of  prayer 
— it  ought  to  stop  the  wheels  of  our  daily  business. 
If  a  good  objection  against  prayer,  it  is  an  equally 
good  objection  to  ploughing,  sowing,  taking  meat  or 
medicine,  and  a  thousand  other  things.  Might  not  an 
unwilling  or  indolent  husbandman,  in  spring,  as  well 
ask,  what  is  the  use  of  sowing  ?  Has  not  God  ordained 
every  thing?  If  I  am  to  have  a  harvest — if  he  has 
decreed  a  harvest  for  my  farm — then,  although  no 
ploughshare  turn  up  a  furrow,  nor  sower  walks  its 
fields,  they  shall  wave  in  autumn  with  golden  corn. 
Or  might  not  one,  who  sickens  at  the  sight  of  nauseous 
drugs,  as  well  say,  Take  these  away,  I'll  drink  no  more 
of  them.  Has  not  God  ordained  everything?  Can 
a  sparrow  fall  to  the  ground  without  the  Father?  If 
he  has  decreed  that  I  am  to  live,  come  cholera,  fever, 
pestilence,  I  shall  live ;  if  he  has  decreed  otherwise, 
all  the  medicines  of  the  apothecary,  and  the  skill  of 
science  can  not  avail  to  save  me,  or  add  one  grain  to 
the  sands  of  my  existence.     Did  any  man  in  his  sober 


348  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

senses  ever  reason  so?  With  that  simple  question  we 
dismiss  this  objection. 

Others,  more  earnest  and  honest,  reading  tliat 
"without  faith  it  is  impossible  to  please  God,  reading 
— and  misunderstanding  what  they  read — "he  who 
doubteth  is  damned" — say  that,  from  want  of  faith, 
their  prayers  must  be  useless.  Most  false  reasoning  I 
What  says  the  Apostle? — "I  will  that  men  pray 
every  where."  "God  will  have  all  men  to  be  saved." 
We  take,  like  little  children,  the  simple  word,  nor 
trouble  ourselves  with  the  metaphysics  of  the  question. 

If  you  were  sufficiently  alive  to  your  danger,  these 
difficulties  would  have  no  more  power  to  hold  3^ou 
than  the  meshes  of  a  spider's  web.  I  knew  of  one  who, 
Avhile  wandering  along  a  lonely  and  rocky  shore  at 
the  ebb  of  tide,  slipped  his  foot  into  a  narrow  crevice. 
Fancy  his  horror  on  finding  that  he  could  not  with- 
draw the  imprisoned  limb !  Dreadful  predicament ! 
There  he  sat,  with  his  back  to  the  shore,  and  his  face 
to  the  sea.  Above  his  head  sea-weed  and  shells  hung 
upon  the  crag — the  too  sure  signs  that  when  j^onder 
turning  tide  comes  in,  it  shall  rise  on  him  inch  by  inch, 
till  it  washes  over  his  head.  Did  he  cry  for  help? 
Does  any  man  dream  of  asking  such  a  question  ? 
None  heard  him.  But,  Oh,  how  he  shouted  to  the  dis- 
tant boat !  how  his  heart  sank  as  her  yards  swung 
round,  and  she  went  off  on  the  other  tack !  how  his 
cries  sounded  high  above  the  roar  of  breakers !  how 
bitterly  he  envied  the  white  seamew  her  wing,  as, 
wondering  at  this  intruder  on  her  lone  domains,  she 
sailed  above  his  head,  and  shrieked  back  his  shriek  ! 
how,  hopeless  of  help  from  man,  he  turned  up  his  face 
to  heaven,  and  cried  loud  and  long  to  God  !  All  that 
God  only  knows.     But  as  sure  as  there  was  a  terrific 


THE   NECESSITY  AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       349 

stiuggle,  so  sure,  while  he  watched  the  waters  rising 
inch  by  inch,  these  cries  never  ceased  till  the  wave 
swelled  up,  and  washing  the  dying  prayer  from  his 
lips,  broke  over  his  head  with  a  melancholy  moan. 

There  was  no  help  for  him.  There  is  help  for  us. 
nllhouoh  fixed  in  sin  as  fast  as  that  man  in  the  rock. 
Whether  we  have  true  faith,  may  be  a  question  which 
is  not  easily  settled  ;  but  to  pray  is  a  clear  and  com- 
manded duty.  The  "  help,  Oh,  help.  Lord,"  never  yet 
rose  from  an  anxious  heart,  but  it  was  heard,  and  ac- 
cepted in  heaven.  And  if  Satan  bids  me  hold  my 
peace — as  the  disciples  bade  the  blind  man- — I  bid  him 
nold  his  own.  I  refuse  to  be  silent;  I  but  cry  the 
louder,  "Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on 
me."  In  God's  hands,  when  he  in  smiting,  let  me  be 
"  dumb,  opening  not  the  mouth."  In  my  Father's 
arms  I  may  lie  and  do  nothing  but  weep — weep  upon 
his  loving  bosom ;  but  in  the  arms  of  this  mortal  and 
malignant  enemy,  who  has  seized  me,  and  is  carrying 
me  off  to  prison  and  pit — a  lamb  bleating  in  the  lion's 
jaws — "  I  will  cry  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  answer 
me,  and  send  help  from  above,  and  deliver  me." 

III.  Prayer  must  be  earnest. 

The  public  become  suspicious  even  of  good  money 
when  coiners  have  pushed  their  base  metal  into  wide 
circulation.  Even  so,  religion  falls  into  disrepute,  and 
the  character  of  piety  suffers  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
Avhen  the  church  swarms  with  pretenders  and  false 
professors.  And  in  like  manner,  the  value  of  prayer 
has  fallen  in  the  eyes  of  men  in  consequence  of  many 
prayers  which  are  offered,  being  rejected  by  God,  be- 
cause they  are  not  genuine  Hence  prayer  comes  to 
be  held  in  light  esteem,  and — if  I  might  so  speak — 
the  bills  drawn  on  the  bank  of  heaven  being  dishon- 


350  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZEKIEL. 

ored,  man  saj's — "  Who  is  the  Lord,  that  I  should  serve 
him,  or  what  profit  shall  I  have  if  I  pray  unto  him?" 

Among  other  gross  and  venal  impieties,  the  Church 
of  Rome  sells  prayers.  By  her  prayer-market  sho 
converts  God's  house  into  a  house  of  merchandise  and 
a  den  of  thieves.  Her  prayers — although  their  price, 
like  that  of  other  goods,  varies  with  the  locality — 
may  be  bought  for  money,  under  this  general  rule  of 
the  market,  that  the  praying  shall  correspond  to  the 
paying.  The  rude  Tartar  saves  his  money  by  a  prac- 
tice that  achieves  the  object  just  as  well,  or  rather  that 
fails  as  completely  to  do  any  thing  but  deceive  the 
blind.  He  cuts  a  cylinder  from  a  block  of  wood. 
Upon  its  surface  he  writes  a  series  of  prayers ;  and 
then  he  runs  an  axle  through  the  cylinder,  and  fitting 
it  up  so  that  it  shall  keep  turning  like  a  mill-wheel  in 
the  running  stream,  he  sets  it  in  motion.  He  goes 
away  on  his  hunt,  to  the  pursuit  of  war,  business,  or 
pleasure,  and  reckons  that,  whether  he  sleeps  or  wakes 
as  the  wheel  goes  round,  and  the  prayers  in  its  revo- 
lution turn  up  to  the  eye  of  the  skies,  heaven  reads  them 
there,  and  God  accepts  the  prayers  of  the  dead  cylin- 
der for  the  desires  of  a  living  heart. 

Prayers  without  wishes  are  like  birds  without  wings ; 
while  the  eagle  soars  away  to  heaven,  these  never  leave 
the  ground.  It  is  the  heart  that  prays — not  the  knees, 
nor  the  hands,  nor  the  lips.  Have  not  I  seen  a  dumb 
man,  who  stood  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  beg  as  well 
with  his  imploring  eye  and  open  hand,  as  one  that  had 
ji  tongue  to  speak  ?  If  you  would  have  your  prayers 
accepted,  they  must  be  arrows  shot  from  the  heart. 
None  else  mount  to  the  throne  of  God.  You  may 
repeat  your  prayers  every  day  ;  you  may  be  punctual 
as  a  Mohammedan  who,  at  the  Mollah's  call  from  the 
minaret  of  the  mosque,  drops  on  his   knees   in  public 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PEAYER.       351 

assembly  or  the  crowded  street.  What  then?  Tlic 
prayer  of  the  lip,  tongue,  memory,  of  the  wandering 
mind,  in  its  dead  formality,  are,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
no  better  than  the  venal  prayers  of  Rome,  or  the  rev- 
olutions of  the  Tartar's  wheel.  "The  sacrifice  of  the 
hj^pocrite  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord." 

Would  you  see  true  prayer — would  you  know  what 
prayer  really  is  ?  step  into  this  Egyptian  palace  where 
Benjamin  stands  bound — his  amazed  and  trembling 
brothers  grouped  around  the  lad?  Judah  advances. 
He  bows  himself  before  Joseph.  His  heart  is  full. 
His  lip  trembles.  The  tear  glistens  in  his  manly  eye , 
and  now,  with  tenderness  thrilling  in  every  tone,  he 
pours  forth  this  plea  of  surpassing  pathos — "  Oh  my 
lord,  let  thy  servant,  I  pray  thee,  speak  a  word  in  my 
lord's  ears,  and  let  not  thine  anger  burn  against  thy 
servant:  My  lord  asked  his  servants,  saying,  Have 
ve  a  father,  or  a  brother  ?  and  we  said  unto  my  lord, 
We  have  a  father,  an  old  man,  and  a  child  of  his  old 
Age,  a  little  one;  and  his  brother  is  dead;  and  he 
alone  is  left  of  his  mother,  and  his  father  loveth  him." 
Thus  on  he  goes  ;  and  every  sentence  goes  like  a  knife 
into  Joseph's  heart.  And  then  he  closes  and  crowns 
his  appeal  with  this  most  brave  and  generous  pro- 
posal, "Now,  therefore,  I  pray  thee,  let  thy  servant 
abide  instead  of  the  lad,  a  bondsman  to  my  lord  ;  for 
how  shall  I  go  to  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not  with 
me,  lest  I  see  the  evil  that  shall  come  on  my  father?" 
Joseph's  heart,  which  has  been  swelling  with  emotion, 
is  now  ready  to  burst.  He  can  stand  it  no  longer ; 
nor  any  wonder.  That  is  prayer  ;  and  could  we  bring 
such  earnestness  to  Jesus,  Oh,  how  Avould  his  tender, 
much  more  tender  heart  melt,  like  wax,  before  it. 
Did  we  approach  him  v/ith  the  fervor  that  glowed  and 


352  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

burned  in  Judah's  speech  ;  did  we  plead  for  our  own 
souls  or  those  of  others,  with  such  tears,  in  such  tones, 
as  Judah's  when  he  pleaded  for  Benjamin,  how  would 
a  divine  brother  discover  himself  to  us. 

Now  turn  from  that  Egyptian  to  this  Hebrew  pal- 
ace. There  also  is  prayer.  Two  women  stand  beforo 
King  Solomon.  In  the  darkness  of  the  night  one  has 
crept,  with  noiseless  step,  to  her  neighbor's  bed,  and 
while  the  mother  slept,  and  the  babe  slept  in  her 
bosom,  softl}^,  cautiously,  she  steals  the  living  child, 
and  leaves  her  own  cold,  dead  infant  in  its  place. 
They  carry  the  dispute  to  Solomon — each  claiming  the 
living,  and  each  repudiating  the  dead.  With  a  skill 
that  earned  him  his  world-wide  fame,  the  wise  monarch 
summons  nature  as  a  witness.  Horrible  to  hear,  he 
orders  the  living  child  to  be  divided.  The  sword  is 
raised — another  moment,  and  each  mother  gets  a 
quivering  half — another  moment,  and  interference 
comes  too  late.  One  stands  calm,  firm,  collected, 
looking  on  with  a  cruel  eye.  With  a  bound  that  car- 
ries her  to  his  feet,  and  a  shriek  that  rings  wild  and 
high  over  all  the  palace,  the  other — the  true  mother 
—clasps  her  hands  in  agon}^,  and  cries — "Oh,  my  lord, 
give  her  the  living  child,  in  no  wise  slay  it."  That  is 
prayer.  That  cry,  that  spring,  that  look  of  anguish — 
all  these  proclaim  the  mother — how  different  from  the 
cold,  callous,  unimpassioned  frame  in  which,  alas!  the 
best  too  often  present  themselves  at  the  throne  of 
grace,  as  if,  when  we  are  seeking  pardon,  it  were  a 
matter  of  supreme  indifference  whether  our  prayer 
were  or  were  not  answered.  Oh  !  how  should  we  pray 
that  God  would  help  us  to  pray,  and  touch  our  icy 
lips  with  a  live  coal  from  off  his  altar. 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF    PKAYEE.       353 

IV.  Praj^er  is  powerfiil. 

An  angel,  says  our  great  poet,  keeping  ward  and 
fv^atch  on  the  battlements  of  lieaven,  caught  sight  of 
Satan  as  he  flew  on  broad  wing  from  hell  to  this 
world  of  ours.  The  celestial  sentinel  shot  down  like 
a  sunbeam  to  the  earth,  and  communicated  the  alarm 
to  the  guard  at  the  gates  of  pni-adise.  Search  was 
made  for  the  enemy,  but  for  a  time  without  success. 
Ilhuriel  entered  the  bower,  whose  flowery  roof  "show- 
ered roses  which  the  morn  repaired,"  and  where  our 
first  parents,  "lulled  by  nightingales,  embracing, 
slept."  There  he  saw  a  toad  sitting,  squat  by  the  ear 
of  Eve.  His  suspicions  were  awakened.  In  his  hand 
was  a  spear  that  had  the  celestial  power  of  revealing 
truth,  unmaskinfT  falsehood,  and  makinor  ^11  thinG;s  to 
stand  out  in  their  genuine  colors.  He  touched  the 
reptile  with  it.  That  instant  the  toad — which  was 
breathing  horrid  dreams  into  the  ear  of  Eve — changed 
its  shape,  and  there,  confronting  him  foce  to  face, 
stood  the  proud,  malignant,  haughty  form  of  the 
Prince  of  Darkness. 

With  such  a  spear  as  that  with  which  Milton,  in  this 
flight  of  fancy,  arms  Ithuriel,  praj'Cr  arms  us.  Are 
we  in  doubt  whether  a  thing  is  right  or  wrong? 
Are  we  indulging  in  ^Dleasures,  or  engaged  in  pursuits, 
with  which  we  are  not  altogether  satisfied,  and  yet 
are  not  ready  decidedly  to  condemn,  and  promptly  to 
abandon  ?  In  any  matter  of  Christian  morals,  are  we 
halting  between  two  opinions  ?  The  simplest  and 
shortest  way  of  determining  the  doubt  is  to  apply  the 
test  of  prayer.  Take  the  subject  to  God.  Look  at 
your  pleasures  and  ^^our  practices  in  the  light  of  his 
countenance.  Examine  the  matter  on  your  knees. 
Can  you  make  it  a  subject  of  pra3^cr?     Ah!  be  sure 


854  THE    GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

you  are  not  safe  in  the  place  t  j  which  you  can  not  ask 
God  to  accompany  you.  Be  sure  that  that  good  (as 
the  world  may  call  it)  is  bad — that  pursuit  or  enjoy- 
ment, however  gainful  or  pleasant,  is  an  evil — "upon 
which  you  can  not  implore  God's  blessing,  and  for 
which  you  dare  not  go  to  a  throne  of  grace,  and  give 
God  thanks. 

Is  this  test  of  universal  application?  is  every  thing, 
then,  to  be  made  a  subject  of  prayer?  Certainly.  So 
thought  Fowell  Buxton,  even  of  those  amusements 
with  which,  in  holiday  times,  he  was  wont  to  brace 
up  mind  and  body  for  noble  labors  in  the  cause  of 
God  and  his  countrj^.  So  thought  that  Corsican 
patriot,  who  never  went  down  to  battle  till  he  had 
gone  down  to  his  knees,  nor  ever  leveled  a  rifle  that 
never  missed,  without  praying  for  the  soul  he  was 
about  to  send  into  eternity.  And  so  speaks  Paul, 
v/hen,  linking  peace  and  praj^er  together,  he  writes — • 
"  Be  careful  for  nothing ;  but  in  every  thing  by 
prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let  your 
requests  be  made  known  unto  God ;  and  the  peace  of 
God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall  keep  your 
heart  and  minds,  through  Jesus  Christ." 

Such  is  one  of  the  indirect  uses,  and  not  unimpor- 
tant eifects  of  prayer.  Its  direct  power  is,  in  a  sense, 
omnipotent.  Prayer  moves  the  hand  that  moves  the 
world.  It  secures  for  the  believer  the  resources  of 
Divinity.  What  battles  has  it  not  fought !  what  vic- 
tories has  it  not  won  !  what  burdens  has  it  not  car- 
ried I  what  wounds  has  it  not  healed !  what  griefs  has 
it  not  assuaged!  It  is, the  wealth  of  poverty;  tho 
refuge  of  aflliction ;  the,  strength  of  Aveakness ;  the 
light  of  darkness.  It  is  the  oratory  that  gives  power 
to  the  pulpit ;  it  is  the  hand  that  strikes  down  Satan, 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER    OF   PRAYER.       355 

and  breaks  the  fetters  of  sin  ;  it  turns  tlie  scales  of 
fate  more  than  the  edge  of  the  sword,  the  craft  of 
statesmen,  or  the  weight  of  scepters ;  it  has  arrested 
the  wing  of  time,  turned  aside  the  very  scythe  of 
death,  and  discharged  heaven's  frowning  and  darkest 
cloud  in  a  shower  of  blessings. 

Prayer  changes  impotence  into  omnipotence  ;  fur, 
commanding  the  resources  of  Divinity,  there  is  nothing 
it  can  not  do,  and  there  is  nothing  it  need  want.     It 
has  just  two  limits.     The  first  is,  that  its  range  is  con- 
fined to  the  promises  ;  but,  within  these,  what  a  bank 
of  wealth,  what  a  mine  of  mercies,  what  a  store  of 
blessings !     The  second   is,  that   God  will   grant  or 
deny  our  requests  as  is  best  for   his  glory  and  our 
good.     And  who  that  knows  how  we  are,  in  a  sense, 
but   children,   would  wish   it   otherwise?     My  little 
child  is  angry  when  I  pluck  a  knife  from  his  hands ; 
he  doubts  his  father's  love  because  he  does  not  always 
kiss,  but  sometimes  corrects  him  ;  and,  turning  away 
his  head  from  the  nauseous  drug,  he  must  be  coaxed 
— sometimes   compelled  to  drink  the   cup  which,  al- 
though bitter  to  the  taste,  is  the  restorative  of  health. 
Who  that  sees  the  child  seek  meat  when  he  needs 
medicine,  eagerly  clutch  at  tempting  but  unripe  fruit, 
prefer  play,  and  go  weeping  to  school,  reject  simple 
but  healthful  fare  for  some  luscious,  but  noxious  lux- 
ury, who,  I  say,  does  not  feel  thankful  that  God  re- 
serves the  right  of  refusal,  and  makes  his  answers  cor- 
respond  to  our  wants   rather   than    to  our  wishes? 
This  limit  to  prayer  may  make  poverty  our  lot ;  may 
bind  us  to  a  sick  bed;  may  leave  us   to  suffer  and 
bleed   under  the  stroke  of  an  impending  calamity  ; 
but — while  we  will  get  as  much  of  earth  as  we  need 
on  earth — for  the  pardon  of  sin,  for  peace  of  con- 


356  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

science,  for  purity  of  lieait,  for  growth  in  grace,  for 
all  that  we  need  to  make  us  meet  for  heaven,  and  at 
length,  for  insuring  heaven  itself,  prayer  secures  to 
us  the  help  and  hand  of  Omnipotence. 

By  prayer,  besides,  God's  children  can  reckon  on 
immediate  assistance.  Prayer  flies  where  the  eagle 
never  flew ;  and  rises  on  wings  broader  and  stronger 
than  an  angel's.  It  travels  further  and  faster  than 
light.  Eising  from  the  heart  of  a  believer,  it  shoots 
away  beyond  that  starry  sky,  and,  reaching  the  throne, 
enters  into  the  ear  of  God.  So  soon  as  the  heart 
begins  to  work  on  earth,  it  moves  the  hand  of  God  in 
heaven ;  and,  ere  the  prayer  has  left  the  lips  of  faithj 
Jesus  has  presented  it  to  his  Father,  and  secured  its 
answer.  It  is  a  telegraph  stretched  not  between  shore 
and  shore — the  mother  country  and  her  distant  colo- 
nies, the  seat  of  government  and  the  far-off  scene  of 
battle — but  its  extended  lines  connect  heaven  and 
earth,  man  and  God,  the  sinner  and  the  Saviour,  the 
humblest  home  of  piety  and  a  throne  of  grace. 

That  high  invention  of  human  genius,  which,  by 
its  wires  of  iron  connects  distant  countries  together, 
and  has,  in  a  sense,  abolished  both  time  and  space — 
offers  but  an  imperfect  image  of  a  power  which  piety 
has  been  working  befor©  science  v/as  born — nay,  ever 
since  the  world  began.  From  remote  regions  the  elec- 
tric telegraph  may  convey  to  a  father  the  tidings  that 
his  child  is  ill ;  but  it  carries  not  the  physician  to  his 
side,  nor  the  drug  of  potent  virtue  which  could  cure 
his  malady.  It  leaves  him  to  die.  It  may  bring  to-night 
a  detail  of  the  fortunes  of  the  war.  Along  it  our  army 
may  send  a  cry  for  help — for  more  men  and  more 
munitions ;  but  days  and  weeks  must  elapse,  and  many 
miles  of  ocean  be  traveled,   ere  ever  our  ships  can 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       357 

pour  their  baj^onets  on  the  hostile  shore ;  and  then  it 
may  be  too  late  ;  the  tide  may  have  ebbed  that,  taken 
at  the  full,  had  led  on  to  fortune. 

But  does  God  never  make  his  people  wait?  He  does. 
Faith  and  patience  are  put  upon  their  trial ;   there  is 
no  answer,  nor  reply,  nor  relief.     God  is  silent,   and 
the  church  is  left  to  cry,  "  How  long,   O  Lord,  how 
long?"   All   true.     Jesus  addresses  to  his  Bride  the 
language  he  of  old  used  to  his  mother,  "Woman,  my 
hour  is  not  yet  come."    But  let  us  need  present  help, 
and  you  shall  see  that  he  is  "a  very  present  help  in 
time  of  trouble."    Let  the  disciple  be  sinking  amid 
the   waves    of   Galilee,    crying,   "I   perish" — let   the 
prophet  be  on  his  knees  in  the  depths  of  the  sea  and 
the  dark  belly  of  the  whale — let  the  widow's  last  mite, 
and  the  barrel's  last  handful  have  come — let  the  con- 
fessor be  descending  into  the  lions'  roaring  den — let 
the  queen  have  her  brave  hand  upon  the  door,  with 
these  words  of  high  resolve  upon  her  lips,  "  If  I  per- 
ish, I  perish" — let  the  trembling  host  have  the  waters 
of  the  Bed  Sea  roaring  in  their  front,  and  the  chariots 
of  Egypt  pressing  on  their  rear — let   God's    people 
have  reached  such  a  crisis — let   them  stand  in   any 
such  predicament — and  his  answer  anticipates  their 
prayer.     The  supply  is  on  the  road  before  the  want  is 
expressed  ;  the  door  opens  before  the  hand  has  struck 
it ;  wkile  prayer  is  traveling  up  the  one  line,  the  an- 
swer is  speeding  down  the  other.     Hear  the  voice  of 
the  Lord,  "  It  shall  come  to  pass ;  hefore  they  call  I  will 
answer,  and  while  the}^  are  yet  speaking,  I  will  hear." 

Y.  Prayer  is  confident. 

In  speaking  of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  Paul  says, 
"  In  whom  we  have  boldness  and  access  with  confidence 


368  THE  GOSPEL  IN  EZERIEL 

by  the  faith  of  him  ;"  "  Jesus,  our  High  Priest,  has  en- 
tered within  the  "\  ail,  and  having  reconciled  us  to  God, 
we  have  boldness  to  enter  into  the  holiest  by  the  blood 
of  Jesus  ;"  "Seeing,  then,  that  we  have  a  great  High 
Priest,  that  is  passed  into  the  heavens,  Jesus,  the  Son 
of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession.  For  we  have 
not  an  High  Priest  which  can  not  be  touched  with  the 
feelings  of  our  infirmities  ;  but  was  in  all  points  tempt- 
ed like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin.  Let  us,  therefore, 
come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may 
obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need." 

It  is  easy  to  know  the  knock  of  a  beggar  at  one's 
door.  Low,  timid,  hesitating,  it  seems  to  say,  I  have 
no  claim  on  the  kindness  of  this  house ;  I  may  be  told 
I  come  too  often ;  I  may  be  treated  as  a  troublesome 
and  unworthy  mendicant ;  the  door  may  be  flung  in 
my  face  by  some  surly  servant.  How  different,  on  his 
return  from  school,  the  loud  knocking,  the  bounding 
step,  the  joyous  rush  of  the  child  into  his  father's 
presence,  and,  as  he  climbs  liis  knee,  and  flings  his 
arms  round  his  neck,  the  bold  face  and  ready  tongue 
v/ith  which  he  reminds  his  father  of  some  promised 
favor?  Kow,  why  are  God's  people  bold?  Glory 
to  God  in  the  highest !  To  a  Father  in  God,  to  an  elder 
brother  in  Christ,  Faith  conducts  our  steps  in  prayer; 
therefore,  in  an  hour  of  need,  Faith,  bold  of  spirit, 
raises  her  suppliant  hands,  and  cries  up  to  God,  ''  Oh 
that  thou  wouldst  rend  the  heavens,  and  come  down." 

I  think  that  I  see  the  sneer  curling  on  the  skeptic's 
lip  as  he  says.  How  absurd!  What  presumption! 
as  if  it  were  not  below  the  dignity  of  Divinit}^  to  come 
at  king's  or  peasant's,  prince's  or  pauper's  call. 
Should  the  lofty  purposes  of  the  Eternal  be  shaped 
by  your  petitions  ?   Creature  of  a  day  and  of  the  dust  I 


TUE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       359 

what  are  jou,  that  tbc  universe  sliould  be  steered^ 
its  helm  moved  this  or  that  way  for  3' our  sake  ?  Well, 
no  doubt  the  language  is  bold  ;  yet  with  God  a  Father, 
our  Father,  my  Father  in  Christ,  I  feel  I  can  be  bold 
and  confident  in  prayer.  I  know  a  fluher's  heart. 
Have  I  not  seen  the  quiver  of  a  father's  lip,  the  tear 
start  into  his  eye,  and  felt  his  lieaTt  in  the  grasp  of  his 
hand,  when  I  expressed  some  good  hope  of  a  fallen 
child  ?  Have  I  not  seen  a  mother,  when  her  infant 
was  tottering  in  the  path  of  mettled  coursers,  with  foam 
spotting  their  necks,  and  fire  flying  from  their  feet, 
dash  like  a  hawk  across  the  path,  and  pluck  him  from 
instant  death?  Have  I  not  seen  a  mother,  who  sat  at 
the  coffin-head,  pale,  dumb,  tearless,  rigid,  terrible  in 
grief,  spring  from  her  chair,  seize  the  coffin  which  we 
were  carrying  av/ay,  and,  with  shrieks  fit  to  pierce  a 
heart  of  stone,  struggle  to  retain  her  dead  ? 

If  we,  that  are  but  worms  of  the  earth,  will  peril 
life  for  our  children,  and,  when  they  are  moldered 
into  dust,  can  not  think  of  our  dead,  nor  visit  their 
cold  and  lonesome  grave,  but  our  breasts  are  wrung, 
and  our  wounds  bleed  forth  afresh,  can  we  adequately 
conceive  or  measure,  far  less  exaggerate — even  with 
our  fancy  at  its  highest  strain,  the  paternal  love  of 
God  ?  Talk  not  of  what  you  suppose  to  be  the  dignity 
of  Divinity.  Talk  not  of  the  calm,  lofty,  dignified 
demeanor  which  becomes  a  king,  who  sees  his  child 
borne  off  on  the  stream  that  sweeps  his  palace  wall. 
The  king  is  at  once  sunk  in  the  father.  Divesting 
himself  of  his  trappings — casting  awa}^  scepter,  robe 
of  gold,  and  jeweled  crown,  he  at  once  rushes  forth 
to  leap  into  the  boiling  flood.  Lives  there  a  father 
with  heart  so  dead  that  he  would  not,  at  the  sight  of 
a  child  fallen  overboard,  and  struggling  with   death, 


860  THE   GOSPEL    IN    EZEKIEL. 

back  every  sail,  and,  whatever  might  be  the  mission 
on  which  his  ship  was  bound,  or  whatever  the  risk  he 
ran,  wouki  not  put  up  her  helm,  and,  pale  with  dread, 
steer  for  the  waves  were  his  boy  was  sinking  ? 

Child  of  God !  pray  on.  God's  people  are  more 
dear  to  him  than  our  children  can  be  to  us.  He  re- 
gards them  with  more  complacency  than  all  the  shining 
orbs  of  that  starry  firmament.  The}^  were  bought  at 
a  price  higher  than  would  purchase  the  dead  matter 
of  ten  thousand  v/orlds.  He  cares  more  for  his  hum- 
blest, weakest  child,  than  for  all  the  crowned  heads 
and  great  ones  of  earth,  and  takes  a  deeper  interest  in 
the  daily  fortunes  of  a  pious  cottage  than  in  the  fall 
and  rise  of  kino^doms. 

Child  of  God!  pray  on.  By  prayer  thy  hand  can 
touch  the  stars,  thy  arm  stretch  up  to  heaven.  Nor 
let  thy  holy  boldness  be  dashed  by  the  thought  that 
prayer  has  no  power  to  bend  these  skies,  and  bring 
down  thy  God.  When  I  pull  on  the  rope  which 
fastens  my  frail  and  little  boat  to  a  distant  and  mighty 
ship,  if  my  strength  cannot  draw  its  vast  bulk  to  me, 
I  draw  myself  to  it — to  ride  in  safety  under  the  pro- 
tection of  its  guns;  to  enjoy  in  want  the  fullness  of  its 
stores.  And  it  equally  serves  my  purpose,  and  sup- 
plies my  needs,  that  prayer,  although  it  were  power- 
less to  move  God  to  me,  moves  me  to  God.  If  lie 
does  not  descend  to  earth,  I — as  it  were — ascend  to 
heaven. 

Child  of  God  !  pray  on.  AVere  it  indispensable  for 
thy  safety  that  God  should  rend  these  heavens,  it 
Bhould  be  done — a  wondering  world  should  see  it 
done.  I  dare  believe  that;  and  "I  am  not  mad,  most 
noble  Festus."  Have  not  these  heavens  been  already 
rent?     Eighteen    hundred  years  ago,   robed   in   hu- 


THE   NECESSITY   AND   POWER   OF   PRAYER.       361- 

manity,  God  himself  came  dov»m.  These  blue  skies, 
where  larks  sing  and  eagles  sail,  were  cleft  with  the 
wings  and  filled  with  the  songs  of  his  angel  train. 
Among  the  ancient  orbs  of  that  very  firmament,  a 
stranger  star  appeared,  traveling  the  heavens,  and 
blazing  on  the  banner  borne  before  the  King,  as  he  de- 
scended on  this  dark  and  distant  world.  On  Canaan's 
dewy  ground — the  lowly  bed  he  had  left — the  eye  of 
morning  shone  on  the  shape  and  form  of  the  Son  of 
God  ;  and  dustj  roads,  and  winter  snows,  and  desert 
sands,  and  the  shores  and  very  waves  of  Galilee,  were 
impressed  with  the  footprints  of  the  Creator.  By  this 
manger,  where  the  babe  lies  cradled — beside  this 
cross,  upon  whose  ignominious  arms  the  glory  of  the 
universe  is  hung — by  this  silent  sepulcher,  where, 
wrapped  in  bloody  shroud,  the  body  is  stretched  out 
on  its  bed  of  spices,  while  Roman  sentinels  walk  their 
moonlit  round,  and  Death — a  bound  captive — sits 
within,  so  soon  as  the  sleeper  wakes,  to  be  disarmed, 
uncrowned,  and  in  himself  have  death  put  to  death — ■ 
faith  can  believe  all  that  God  has  revealed,  a.id  hope 
for  all  that  God  has  promised.  She  reads  on  that 
manger,  on  that  cross,  deeply  lettered  on  that  rocky 
sepulcher,  these  glorious  words — "  He  that  spared  not 
his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things?" 
And  there,  lifting  an  eagle  eye  to  heaven,  she  rises  to 
the  boldest  flights,  and  soars  aloft  on  the  broad  wings 
of  prayer — 

Faith,  bold  faith,  the  promise  sees, 

And  trusts  to  that  alone, 
Laugls  at  impossibilitiea, 

Aud  suya,  it  shall  be  done. 


10 


CI]^  §UsHiiiu^s  of  tljc  faints. 

And  ye  shall  d^vell  in  the  land  that  I  gave  to  your  fathers ;  and  \  i 
shall  be  my  people,  and  I  will  be  your  God.  I  will  also  save  y<ii 
fix)ui  all  your  uncleannesses ;  and  I  "wUl  call  for  the  corn,  and  will 
increase  it,  and  lay  no  famine  upon  you.  And  I  will  multiply  the 
fruit  of  the  tree,  and  the  increase  of  the  field,  that  ye  shall  receive 
no  more  reproach  of  famine  among  the  heathen. — Ezekiel  xxxvi. 
28,  29,  30. 

A  COUNTRY  cleared  of  its  inhabitants  wears  a 
mournful  aspect.  It  may  be  that  the  emigrant  has  left 
poverty  for  plenty.  Still  it  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to 
see  nettles  growing  where  the  garden  bloomed — the 
smoke-stained  gable — the  roofless  ruin — tlie  empty 
window,  out  of  which  the  fox  is  peering,  and  where 
the  morning  sun  was  wont  to  shine  upon  the  Bible 
and  a  pious  patriarch.  There  is  something  chilling 
about  that  cold  hearth-stone  where  the  fire  of  a  winter 
evening  gleamed  on  the  faces  of  a  happy  circle,  while 
the  mother  plied  her  busy  wheel,  and,  forgetful  of 
the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  day,  the  shepherd  dandled 
a  laughing  infant  on  his  knee.  Those  are  now  silent 
walls  that  once  sounded  to  the  evening  psalm,  and 
from  which,  when  Sabbath  rested  on  the  hills,  a  de- 
cent family  went  out,  wending  their  way  by  the  lake- 
side to  that  old  ruin  beside  whose  crumbling  walls  the 
fathers  of  the  exile  sleep.  The  wind,  as  it  sighed 
among  the  trees  above  that  roofless  home,  has  seemed 
in  our  fancy's  ear  to  sound  the  piophet's  lament, 
'*  Weep  not  for  the  dead,  neither  bemoan  him,  but 


THE  BLESSEDNESS   OF  THE   SAINTS.  863 

weep  sore  for  liim  that  goeth  away,  for  he  shall  return 
no  more,  nor  see  his  native  country." 

Such  scenes,  the  pain  of  which,  indeed,  lies  more  in 
fancy  than  in  fact,  give  us  an  image  of  the  desolation 
which  reigned  in  the  land  of  Judah  during  the  time 
of  the  long  captivity.  By  rule  of  contrast,  they  en- 
hance also  the  pleasure  with  which  we  turn  to  look 
on  this  glowing  picture — a  land  teeming  with  inhabit- 
ants, the  rich  plains  studded  all  over  with  cities,  each 
busy  as  a  bee-hive — the  valleys  clothed  with  corn, 
crowded  with  reapers,  and  ringing  to  their  song — every 
terrace  in  the  close  embrace  of  vines,  and  flocks  bleat- 
ing on  a  hundred  hills.  Such  a  scene,  in  fact,  as  sur- 
veyed from  some  eminence,  awoke  the  piety  and  poetry 
of  David — "  Thou  crownest  the  year  with  thy  goodness, 
and  thy  paths  drop  fatness ;  they  drop  upon  the  pastures 
of  the  wilderness,  and  the  little  hills  rejoice  on  every 
side.  The  pastures  are  clothed  with  flocks,  the  valleys 
also  are  covered  over  with  corn ;  they  shout  for  joy, 
they  also  sing." 

The  fulfillment  of  my  text  to  God's  ancient  people 
would  have  invested  this  prophecy  with  interest,  even 
although  its  application  had  been  altogether  confined 
to  the  Jews;  and,  for  this  reason — Their  God  is  our 
God,  and  everything  which  he  did  for  them  is  a  most 
precious  pledge  of  what  he  can  and  will  do  for  us. 
"  He  is  the  dwelling-place  of  his  people  in  all  genera- 
tions." Thus  while  faith  turns  her  eye  upon  the 
future — a  future  often  dark  enough — she  draws  cou- 
rage and  comfort  from  the  past,  saying,  "  I  will  remem 
ber  the  years  of  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High." 
But,  in  fact,  we  have  more  to  do  with  this  prophecy 
than  the  Jews  had.  Under  those  blessings  which  God 
poured  into  their  cup — those  temporal  mercies  which 


864:  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

filled  their  mouths  with  meat,  and  their  hearts  with 
gladness — lie  the  better  mercies  of  Messiah's  kingdom. 
This  shines  plainly  forth  through  the  mystic  lan- 
guage of  the  prophet.  The  conversion  of  the  Gen- 
tiles is,  for  instance,  distinctly  announced  in  the  86th 
verse,  "  Then  the  heathen,  that  are  left  round  about 
you,  shall  know  that  I  the  Lord  build  the  ruined 
places,  and  plant  that  which  was  desolate.  I  tho  Lord 
have  spoken  it,  and  will  do  it."  Li  the  succeeding 
chapter,  again,  the  resurrection  of  the  body  and  the 
renovation  of  the  soul  are  set  forth  under  the  vision 
of  dry  bones.  In  the  same  place  also  have  we  not  a 
kingdom  shown  forth  more  enduring  far,  than  any 
which  ever  had  its  seat  in  Palestine?  "And  David, 
my  servant,  shall  be  king  over  them,  and  they  all  shall 
have  one  shepherd ;  they  shall  also  walk  in  my  judg- 
ments, and  observe  my  statutes,  and  do  them ;  and 
they  shall  dwell  in  the  land  which  I  have  given  to 
Jacob,  my  servant,  wherein  your  fathers  have  dwelt; 
and  they  shall  dwell  therein,  even  they,  and  their 
children,  and  their  children's  children,  for  ever;  and 
my  servant  David  shall  be  their  prince  for  ever."  It 
appears  to  us  that  this  language  can  not,  without  vio- 
lence, be  applied  to  the  old  Jewish  land  and  people; 
and  that  the  Koman  ploughshare  has  buried  such  a 
fancy  under  the  ruins  of  Jerusalem.  With  the  blood 
of  man's  best  brother  on  their  heads,  the  Jews,  like 
Cain,  are  vagabonds.  They  have  no  dwelling  in  the 
land  v/hich  God  gave  to  Jacob;  for  eighteen  hundred 
years  they  have  been  wandering  the  world,  nor  have 
the  soles  of  their  feet  yet  found  a  resting-place.  A 
nation  scattered  and  spoiled,  they  are  a  bye-word,  a 
proverb,  and  a  hissing — nor  land,  nor  temple,  nor 
oracle,  nor  prince,  have  they,  nor  shall  have,  till  turn- 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  SAINTS.  865 

ing  to  the  hope  of  his  best  and  oldest  fathers,  the  Jew 
bows  his  proud  head  to  the  l^azarene,  and  kisses  the 
feet  that  were  nailed  to  a  cross. 

Looking  at  these  words,  therefore,  in  this  light — 
taking  them  in  a  Gospel,  not  a  Jewish  sense — let  ua 
give  our  attention  to  some  of  the  blessings  which  they 
announce — the  benefits  which,  to  use  the  words  of  our 
Catechism,  "flow  from  justification,  adoption,  and 
sanctification."     Let  the  believer  look — 

L  To  the  abundance  of  the  blessings  of  grace. 

A  new-born  infant  is  the  most  helpless  of  all  crea- 
tures. In  its  nakedness,  weakness,  dumbness,  how 
dependent  on  a  mother's  love !  yet  not  more  so  than 
God's  people  are  on  his  care  and  kindness.  Theirs 
are  therefore  circumstances  in  which  his  promises  are 
exceedingly  precious.  The  condition  of  believers  ver}'- 
much  resembles  that  of  a  man  of  boundless  affiuence, 
whose  wealth  lies,  not  so  much  in  money,  as  in  money's 
worth — in  bills  and  bonds,  that,  when  due,  shall  be 
duly  honored.  With  these  promises  the  poorest 
Christian  is  really  a  richer  man  than  any  other  men, 
with  all  their  possessions ;  nor  would  he  part  with  one 
of  them  for  the  world's  wealth. 

This  rude  and  naked  savage — the  dupe  of  avari- 
cious men — barters  a  coronet  of  gold  for  some  worth- 
less trinkets,  and  buys  the  wonders  of  a  mirror,  the 
tinkling  of  a  bell,  or  a  string  of  colored  beads,  with  a 
handful  of  pearls,  the  fit  ornaments  of  a  crown.  The 
child  of  God  knows  better  than  to  sell  what  is  of  sur- 
passing value,  for  any  thing  intrinsically  worthless. 
With  this  promise,  "thy  bread  shall  be  given  thee, 
and  thy  water  shall  be  sure,"  he  holds  himself  richer, 
more  sure  of  meat  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on,  than 


B66  THE   GOSPEL   IN  EZEKIEL. 

he  would  be  with  the  wealth  of  banks.  And  why? 
Is  this  reasonable?  No  doubt  of  it.  No  logician 
ever  reasoned  more  soundly.  These  may  fail ;  God's 
promise  can  not.  The  very  stars  shall  drop  like  figs 
from  shaken  heavens,  and  these  heavens  themselves 
sliall  pass  away,  but  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  what  his 
God  has  spoken  shall  fail,  till  all  be  fulfilled. 

^ith  such  security  as  we  have  in  the  character  of 
God,  and  such  fullness  as  is  promised  in  the  text,  it 
needs,  therefore,  only  a  prophet's  faith  to  echo  a 
prophet's  speech,  and — when  gaunt  famine  vralks  our 
streets,  and  there  are  ''clean  teeth,"  and.  children  cry 
for  bread,  and  their  mothers  have  none  to  give  them 
— to  repeat  the  boldest  words  that  ever  fell  from  mortal 
lips-  -"Although  the  fig-tree  should  not  blossom,  and 
theie  be  no  fruit  on  the  vine  ;  though  the  labor  of  the 
olive  should  fail,  and  the  fields  yield  no  meat;  though 
the  flocks  should  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there 
be  no  herd  in  the  stall,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord, 
and  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation."  I  can  fancy  a 
skeptic  exclaiming — Extravagance !  fanaticism — mad 
fanaticism !  No  such  thing.  In  his  promises  God's 
people  have  meat  to  eat  that  others  know  not  of,  and 
these  have  proved  like  the  breasts  of  a  daughter  to 
the  aged  captive  who  had  been  condemned  to  die  of 
pining  hunger.  In  that  cell,  where  the  gray  old  man 
each  day  took  her  infant's  place,  her  love  and  ingenuity 
have  found  means  to  save  a  father's  life,  which  his 
enemies  never  dreamt  of;  and  the  child  of  God, 
around  whom  fears  of  want  are  gathering,  may  rest 
assured;  that  he  who  inspired  that  daughter  with  the 
wit  and  will  for  such  an  emergency,  will  find  ways  and 
roeans  to  make  his  promise  good.     "  The  word  of  the 


THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF   THE   SAINTS.  867 

Lord  is  a  tried  word  " — fail  "as  who,  and  what  may, 
that  can  not. 

There  are,  indeed,  times  when  the  believer  is  ready 
to  faint.  Faith  staggers  beneath  the  burden,  and  hope 
all  but  expires.  My  sins  are  so  many,  my  guilt  so 
great,  my  burden  so  heavy  !  thus  and  thus  they  speak; 
now,  with  Jacob,  complaining,  "All  these  things  are 
against  me  "  ^nd  now,  on  finding  Satan  so  often  con- 
quering them  wrien  they  should  have  conquered  him, 
crying  with  David,  "  I  shall  one  day  fall  by  the  hand 
of  this  Saul."  Well,  let  your  burdens,  sins,  cares,  be 
such  as  you  describe.  Let  me  ask  you  a  question. 
Is  it  not  as  easy  for  yonder  great  sea  to  carry  the 
bulkiest  ship  that  ever  rode  her  waves,  as  the  sea- weed 
or  foam  she  flings  upon  the  shore  ?  Ls  it  not  as  easy  for 
that  glorious  sun  to  bathe  a  mountain,  as  to  bathe  a 
mole-hill  in  gold?  Is  it  not  as  easy  for  this  mighty 
earth  to  carry  on  its  back  an  Alp  as  a  grain  of  sand — - 
to  nourish  a  cedar  of  Lebanon,  as  the  hyssop  on  the 
wall?  Just  so,  believer,  it  is  as  easy  for  God  to 
supply  thy  greatest  as  thy  smallest  wants;  even  as  it 
was  as  much  within  his  power  to  form  a  system  as  an 
atom — to  create  a  blazing  sun,  as  kindle  a  fire-fly's 
lamp. 

To  one,  indeed,  whose  standing  point  is  on  the 
ground,  objects  seem  very  various  in  their  size.  The 
cliffs  tower  above  the  level  shore;  piercing  the  hori- 
zontal cloud  of  smoke,  the  spires  rise  above  the 
humbler  tenements  of  the  town ;  and  from  her  throne 
of  snow  in  high  mid-summer,  winter  looks  down  on  the 
valleys  that  lie  smiling  at  the  mountain's  feet.  Eyed 
from  the  low,  dead  level  of  shore  or  plain,  objects  do 
appear  in  strong  contrast,  high  or  low,  great  or  small, 
big  or  little.     But  I  rise  on  ease's  wings;  I  sit  oc 


0'68  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

the  circle  of  the  earth ;  higher  still,  I  stand  beside  the 
angel  whom  John  saw  in  the  sun ;  still  higher,  I  fol- 
low Paul  "up  to  the  third  heavens ;  and,  seen  from 
such  elevations — if  seen  at  all — dwarf  and  giant,  the 
mountain  and  the  mole-hill,  are  on  one  level.  All 
these  sublunary  differences  vanish,  sink  into  insignifi 
cance — into  nothing. 

Now,  here  lies  a  believer's  comfort,  and  here  shines 
a  sinner's  hope.  So  vanish  all  distinctions  between 
great  and  little  wants  in  the  eye  of  God  ;  so  disappears 
all  difference  between  great  and  little  sins,  or  great 
and  little  sinners,  to  the  blood  of  Christ;  and,  when 
our  cares  are  cast  on  him  who  invites  the  burden,  so 
sinks  every  difference  between  liglit  and  heavy  bur- 
dens, to  the  back  of  Jesus.  It  is  as  easy  for  Jesus  Christ 
to  save  a  Magdalene,  a  Manasseh,  a  hoary  thief,  as  an 
infant,  that  (happy  creature!)  just  leaves  its  mother's 
womb  to  make  of  this  earth  a  stepping-stone  to  heaven. 
Whatever  be  your  circumstances,  trials,  cares,  and 
griefs,  this  promise  fits  them — "  As  thy  day,  so  shall 
thy  strength  be."  Be  he  dwarf  or  giant,  no  man  can 
say  of  an  assurance  so  well  founded,  "The  bed  is 
shorter  than  a  man  can  stretch  himself  upon  it ;  the 
covering  is  narrower  than  a  man  can  wrap  himself  in 
it."  Are  you  cast  down  because,  while  others  have 
shallows,  you  have  depths — dark  depths — depths  of 
sorrow,  and  suffering,  to  pass  through  ?  Be  it  so :  it 
is  as  easy  for  God  to  march  his  people  through  the 
wide,  deep  sea  as  across  the  bed  of  Jordan.  Are  your 
corruptions  strong  ?  Be  it  so :  Samson  found  it  as 
easy  to  snap  a  new  spun  cable  as  withes  fresh  gathered, 
on  the  river's  bank ;  and  believe  me,  it  is  as  easy  for 
God  to  break  thy  tyrant's  strongest  as  his  lightest 
chain.     A  chain  of  iron  and  a  thread  of  flax  are  all 


THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF   THE   SAINTS.  869 

one  to  God.  The  blood  of  thy  Saviour  cleanseth  from 
all  sin ;  and  nothing  being  impossible,  nay  not  even 
difficult  to  Omnipotence,  be  assured,  that  in  your 
battle,  and  watch,  and  work,  you  shall  find  this 
promise  true — "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 

II.  Consider  the  happiness  which  God's  people 
enter  on  at  death. 

Egypt  pursued  the  Hebrews  to  the  very  shores  of 
the  sea.  There,  however,  the  people  saw  the  last  of 
them ;  of  those  tyrants  who  had  made  their  burden  so 
heavy  and  life  so  bitter,  that  their  cry  came  up  before 
the  Lord.  On  this  shore  the  oppressor  and  the  op- 
pressed are  to  part.  In  these  weltering  waves,  from 
which  they  shrink  back  with  dread — as  some  good 
men  from  death — their  enemies  and  their  griefs  are  to 
find  a  common  grave.  In  these  the  wicked  shall 
cease  from  troubling ;  beyond  them  the  weary  shall 
be  at  rest.  Night  has  come ;  a  sun  they  shall  never 
see  more  has  set  on  Pharaoh  and  his  host.  Under  the 
light  that  illumined  the  camp  of  God,  and  flung  a 
fiery  luster  across  the  deep,  Moses  stood  up  to  ad- 
dress the  people.  Their  redemption  was  nigh.  It 
was  now  just  that  darkest  hour  which  ushers  in  the 
dawn.  With  his  foot  on  the  shore,  his  rod  in  his 
hand,  the  fiery  pillar  lighting  up  his  face,  Moses 
pointed  to  the  gloom  where  the  Egyptians  lay,  and 
said,  "  The  Egyptians  whom  ye  have  seen  to-day,  ye 
shall  see  them  again  no  more  for  ever." 

God's  people  are  like  his  ancient  Israel.  They 
have  enemies  who  will  harrass  them  in  life,  and  follow 
them  to  the  very  shores  of  time;  but  whoever,  or 
whatever  these  may  be — sin,  sorrow,  poverty,  tempta- 
tions, trials,  fears,  doubts,  Satan  himself — Oh!  a  death- 

16* 


S70  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

bed  shall  be  the  death  of  them  all.  In  leaving  life 
we  leave  these  behind.  Death  is  their  destruction, 
not  ours.  And  how  should  it  reconcile  us  to  that 
dark  passage  from  which  nature  shrinks,  that  when 
we  stand  in  its  gloomy  mouth  to  take  our  last  look  of 
this  world,  may  feel  assured  that  we  shall  take  the 
last  look,  not  of  friends  in  Christ — for  we  shall  meet 
tlicm  again  in  heaven — but  only  of  these  our  enemies. 
We  "  shall  see  them  again  no  more  for  ever."  Satan 
may  not  only  pursue  God's  people  to  their  very  death- 
bed, but  harrass  them  upon  it.  He  knows  that  his 
time  is  short.  It  is  his  last  chance.  Another  day  or 
hour,  and  they  are  out  of  his  grasp ;  and  so — sum- 
moning all  the  powers  of  hell — he  drives  down  like 
the  Egyptians  into  the  sea — into  the  very  depths  of 
death — and  aggravates  by  his  horrible  suggestions 
the  struggles  of  a  dying  hour.  The  saint  has,  in  that 
time  of  darkness,  two  enemies  upon  him — death,  and 
him  that  has  the  power  of  death,  that  is  the  devil. 
Be  it  so ;  God  shall  take  off  their  chariot-wheels ; 
they  shall  not  reach  the  other  shore,  nor  set  foot  in 
heaven;  there,  there  entereth  nothing  to  hurt  or  to 
defile. 

The  dead  enter  into  rest.  "  Blessed  are  the  dead 
which  die  in  the  Lord,  they  rest."  "  He  that  is  dead 
is  free  from  sin."  And,  as  I  have  looked  on  the  calm 
and  deep  repose  of  the  quiet  sleeper,  when  the  tossing 
arms  lie  still,  and  the  restless  head  reposes  on  its  pil- 
low, and  the  features  which  have  now  lost  all  express- 
ion of  pain,  or  passion,  present  an  aspect  of  solemn, 
Bublime,  beautiful,  perfect  rest,  I  have  sometimes 
thought  that  this  was  an  emblem  which  the  soul  had 
left  us  of  its  own  still  more  profound,  perfect,  heavenly 
rest 


THE   BLKSSEDXES3   OF   THE   SAINTS.  3i  1 

This  is  what  the  redeemed  escape  from^  but,  (3h ! 
what  they  escape  io — the  joys  they  enter  on  when  they 
go  to  be  with  Christ,  who  can  tell  ?  We  know  that 
"to  die"  is — not  shall  be  at  some  future  time,  and 
after  some  intermediate  state — but  "to  die  is  gain,*' 
gain  imniediate.  One  step — and,  what  a  step  ! — the 
Boul  is  in  glory.  Ere  the  wail  has  sunk  in  the  cham- 
ber of  death,  the  song  of  the  upper  sanctuary  has 
begun.  There  is  no  delay ;  no  waiting  for  an  escort 
to  travel  that  invisible,  untrodden  w^ay.  Angels 
unseen  are  moving  in  that  chamber,  looking  on  with 
tearless  eyes  where  all  else  are  weeping ;  and,  the  last 
breath  out — the  last  quiver  passed  from  the  lip — and 
/iway,  away,  they  are  off  with  the  spirit  for  glory. 
On  angel's  wings  the  beggar  is  borne  to  Abraham's 
bosom ;  and  the  shout  of  saints  and  angels,  that 
greeted  the  Conqueror,  is  still  ringing  amid  the  arches 
of  heaven,  when  the  door  opens,  and  the  thief  walks 
in.  "This  day  thou  shalt  be  wdth  me  in  Paradise." 
He  leaves  his  cross,  and  direct,  as  I  have  seen  a  lark 
drop  singing  into  her  nest,  he  goes  up  singing  to  his 
crown. 

And  what  and  where  is  heaven?  I  can  not  tell. 
Even  to  the  eye  of  faith,  heaven  looks  much  like  a 
star  to  the  eye  of  flesh.  Set  there  on  the  brow  of 
night,  it  shines  most  bright — most  beautiful ;  but  it  is 
separated  from  us  by  so  great  a  distance  as  to  be 
raised  almost  as  high  above  our  investigations  as 
above  the  storms  and  clouds  of  earth.  A  shining  ob- 
ject, we  see  it  gleaming  in  the  fields  of  space,  but  we 
see  nothing  more,  even  when  our  eyes  are  assisted  by 
the  most  powerful  telescope.  By  what  beings  it  is  inhab- 
ited; what  forms  they  have;  wdiat  tongue  they  speak; 
what  the  character  the  landscape  wears  in  these  upper 


872  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

worlds  we  do  not  know  ;  and  perhaps  never  shall, 
till  we  have  cast  loose  a  body  which  moors  us  to  the 
earth,  and,  with  a  soul  unchained,  free  perhaps  as 
thought — we  are  left  to  roam  the  universe,  and  pass, 
on  the  wings  of  a  wish,  fi-om  world  to  world  of  our 
Father's  kingdom.  Never,  at  least,  till  then,  shall  we 
know  either  where  heaven  is,  or  what  heaven  is.  The 
best  description  of  it  is  to  saj  that  it  is  indescribable. 
Paul,  o-n  his  return,  attempted  no  other.  There  he 
"heard  and  saw  things  unutterable."  ISTor  does  the 
matter  cost  us  the  least  anxiety.  If  God  spared  not 
his  own  Son,  heaven  shall  want  nothing  to  make  us 
supremely  happy.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  know  that 
heaven,  the  home  of  the  blessed — the  palace  of  the 
Great  King — has  joys  which  eye  never  saw,  ear  never 
heard,  and  which  it  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man  to  conceive. 

III.  The  complete  blessedness  of  the  saints  at  the 
lesurrection  in  the  restoration  of  all  that  sin  forfeited. 

There  were  periods  in  creation — progressive  steps. 
Step  by  step  the  work  advanced  to  its  consummation. 
In  creation,  just  as  in  conversion,  the  process  began 
with  light — letting  light  in  upon  the  darkness.  God 
said,  "  Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was  light,  and  the 
evening  and  the  morning  were  the  first  day."  And 
then  a  wide-spread  firmament  of  blue  separates  the 
waters  above  the  earth  from  the  waters  beneath,  and, 
the  work  completed,  the  evening  and  the  morning 
are  the  second  day.  The  third  day  begins  a  new 
epoch.  The  mountains  raise  their  heads  above  the 
waters ,  like  an  infant,  the  earth  comes  naked  from 
the  womb,  and  when  God  has  wrapped  the  new  born 
world  in  a  beautiful  robe  of  flowers,  green  fields,  and 


THE   BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  SAINTS.  616 

waving  forests,  the  evening  and  the  morning  are  the 
third  day.  The  heavens  next  are  garnished ;  and 
when  their  boundless  fields  are  sown  with  countless 
stars,  the  evening  and  the  morning  are  the  fourth 
day.  Thus  the  Creator  goes  on  with  his  work.  Each 
succeeding  period  brings  it  nearer  to  perfection,  till, 
on  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day,  as  the  sun  was  sink- 
ing behind  the  western  hills,  his  slanting  beams  shone 
on  our  holy,  hap})y  parents — their  home  a  garden, 
their  estate  a  world,  the  creatures  all  their  servants, 
in  their  hearts  no  taint  of  sin,  in  their  eyes  no  tear  of 
sorrow,  and  on  brows  too  soon  to  be  bathed  in  sweat, 
and  blushing  with  shame,  flashing  crowns  of  inno- 
cence. Then,  from  the  throne  of  his  most  excellent 
majesty,  God  looked  on  this  world  as  it  rolled  away 
in  its  happy  orbit,  and,  pronouncing  all  that  he  had 
made  to  be  very  good,  the  evening  and  the  morning 
were  the  sixth  day. 

Like  creation,  the  Gospel  has  had  its  periods  of  pro- 
gress. It  gradually  advanced  in  its  development  from 
the  first  promise  given  by  God,  when  he,  the  judge, 
and  the  culprits  man  and  the  devil  stood  face  to  face 
upon  the  ruins  of  Eden.  First,  we  have  a  simple 
altar,  with  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  curling  up  to  heaven 
from  earth's  unbroken  forests ; — none  there  but  our 
two  solitary  parents,  weeping,  as  well  they  might, 
when  they  gazed  on  the  miserable  wreck  which  they 
had  made  of  their  own  and  their  children's  fortunes  ; 
and  yet,  while  they  wept,  lifting  up  their  heads  in 
hope  of  a  coming  redemption.  The  scene  shifts,  and 
next  we  have  a  desert,  with  a  mighty  host  scattered 
over  its  sands,  and  in  their  midst  a  tented  sanctuary 
with  a  cloud  of  incense  floating,  like  a  prayer,  away 
to  heaven.     The  scone  shifts  again,  and    Jerusalem 


374  THE    GOSPEL    IN   EZEPIIEL. 

sits  upon  her  hills,  and  where  hundreds  of  white-robed 
priests  are  serving,  and  thousands  of  worshipers  are 
kneeling,  a  r.iagnificent  temple  of  marble,  cedar,  and 
gold  towers  high  over  all — the  ornament  and  palla* 
dium  of  the  land.  The  scene  shifts  once  more.  It  is 
mid-day,  and  3^et  dark;  the  earth  is  trembling,  graves 
are  yawning  to  let  out  their  dead,  and,  through  the 
gloom  of  an  unnatural  eclipse,  we  behold  the  cross  of 
Calvary  with  its  bleeding  victim.  Son  of  God  !  He 
is  dying,  "  the  just  for  the  unjust."  He  cries,  "  It  is 
finished,"  and,  Saviour  of  the  world,  he  dies.  The 
work,  so  long  ago  begun,  is  brought  to  a  triumphant 
close.  In  the  very  act  of  death  he  swallows  up  death 
in  victory.  And  thus  you  see  how,  from  one  garden 
to  another,  from  the  flowery  bowers  of  Eden  to  the 
olives  of  Gethsemane,  from  the  first  promise  to  the 
final  performance,  redemption  advances  by  successive 
steps.  Jesus  bows  his  head  ;  and  then,  again,  from 
the  throne  of  his  most  excellent  majesty,  God  looks 
on  all  the  work,  and  over  the  bloody  cross  and  his 
own  dead  Son,  pronounces  this  judgment,  "Behold, 
it  is  very  good."  And,  ushering  in  an  eternal  Sab- 
bath, the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  sixth  day 
of  redemption. 

There  yet  remains  an  aspect  of  redemption  in  which 
it  is  not  complete.  The  prince  of  this  world  is  still 
out,  and  in  the  battle-field  fighting — fighting  like  the 
devil  he  is  for  his  kingdom.  The  body  yet  lies  a 
captive  in  the  tomb,  and  the  grave  must  yield  its  an- 
cient charge.  Insatiate  and  insatiable  devourer  I  thou 
robber  of  our  pleasant  homes !  with  thy  black  mouth 
ever  opening,  and  thy  cry,  give,  give,  give,  ever  in 
our  ear,  thou  thyself  must  give — thou  must  give  up 
ihy  dead.     The  dust  of  sanits  is  dear  to.  Christ.     lie 


THE   BLESSEDNESS   OF   THE   SAINTS.  6iO 

comes  to  claim  it.  All  that  death  and  Satan  hold  thej 
must  relinquish  ;  all  that  Christ  has  purchased  he  shall 
possess.  The  soul  wants  her  partner;  and  althongh 
the  exile  may  return  no  more,  nor  see  his  native  land, 
the  redeemed  shall  return  to  claim  their  bodies  from 
the  earth — aye,  and  claim  the  very  earth  they  lie  in. 
"  The  saints  shall  inherit  the  earth." 

A  grand  destiny  awaits  this  world  of  sins  and  sor- 
rows. This  earth,  purified  by  judgment  fires,  shall 
be  the  home  of  the  blessed.  The  curse  of  briars  and 
thorns  shall  pass  away  with  sin.  "  Instead  of  the 
thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir  tree,  and  instead  of  the 
briar  shall  come  up  the  myrtle  tree."  Of  the  thorns 
of  that  curse  Jesus'  crown  was  woven,  and"  he  bore  it 
ofP  upon  his  head.  Under  laws  accommodated  to  the 
new  economy,  the  wide  world  shall  become  one  Eden, 
where,  exempt  from  physical  as  from  moral  evils,  none 
shall  shiver  amid  arctic  frosts,  nor  wither  under  tropic 
heat ;  these  fields  of  snow  and  arid  sands  shall  blos- 
som all  with  roses.  From  the  convulsions  of  expiring 
- — or  rather  the  birth-pangs  of  parturient  nature — a 
new-born  world  shall  come,  a  home  worthy  of  im- 
mortals, a  palace  befitting  its  King.  The  blood  that 
on  Calvary  dyed  earth's  soil  shall  bless  it,  and  this 
theater  of  Satan's  triumph,  and  of  a  Saviour's  shame, 
shall  be  the  seat  of  Jesus'  kingdom,  and  the  witness 
of  his  glory. 

Then  the  saints  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Some,  like 
Abraham  in  the  promised  land,  are  poor  wanderers 
here — the  proprietors  of  nothing  but  a  grave.  Some 
own  not  even  so  much  as  that.  The  saints,  like  the 
descendants  of  a  noble  but  decayed  house,  are  strangers 
on  the  soil  which  was  once  the  property  of  their  flxthers. 
But  the  time  of  their  redemption  draweth  nigh.     Man 


876  THE   GOSPEL  IN   EZEKIEL. 

shall  get  his  own  again,  and  hold  it  by  a  charter  writ 
ten  in  the  blood  of  Christ.  This  world  was  gifted  to 
him.  It  was  his  patrimonial  estate.  It  was  the  land 
given  to  our  fathers.  And  it  seems  most  meet,  that 
with  the  rank  and  title,  the  lands  should  come  back  to 
the  old  family ;  and,  as  forming  the  corapletest  triumph 
over  Sin  and  Satan,  that  our  redemption  should  be 
altogether  like  that  of  Israel,  when  Moses  turned 
round  on  Pharaoh,  saying,  "  Kot  a  hoof  shall  be  left 
behind."     Even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly. 


t  ^tnixili  of  tlje  |]clii:bn\ 


I  the  Lord  have  spoken  it,  and  I  will  do  it. — Ezekiel  xxxvi,  36. 

When  in  a  sultry  summer  day  the  sky  gets  over- 
cast, and  angry  clouds  gather  thick  upon  its  brow,  and 
bush  and  brake  are  silent,  and  the  very  cattle,  like 
human  beings,  draw  close  together,  standing  dumb  in 
their  untasted  pastures,  and  while  there  is  no  ripple  on 
the  lake,  nor  leaf  stirring  on  the  tree,  all  nature  seems 
struck  with  awe,  and  stands  in  trembling  expectation ; 
then,  when  the  explosion  comes,  and  a  blinding  stream 
of  fire  leaps  from  the  cloud,  and  as  if  heaven's  riven 
vault  were  tumbling  down  upon  our  head,  the  thun- 
ders crash,  peal,  roar  along  the  sky,  he  has  neither 
poetry,  nor  piety,  nor  sense,  who  does  not  reverently 
bow  his  head  and  assent  to  the  words  of  David,  "The 
voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty." 

When  the  God  of  glory  thundereth  in  nature,  his 
voice  is  full  of  majesty  ;  when,  in  still  louder  thunders, 
the  God  of  providence  speaks  by  calamities  that  shake 
the  nation,  or  shake  to  its  foundations  the  happiness 
of  our  home,  his  voice  is  also  full  of  majesty ;  and 
when  the  ear  of  faith  listens  to  these  august  and  lofty 
words,  *'  I  have  spoken,  and  I  will  do  it,"  the  voice  of 
the  Lord  again  is  "full  of  majesty."  This  language 
is  stamped  with  divinity.  And  to  God  we  may,  with 
the  highest  propriety,  address  the  words  which  the 
flatterers  of  royalty  blasphemously  offered  to  an  orator, 
whose  proud  assumption  of  divinity  the  worms  soon 


878  THE   GOSPEL    IN   EZEKIEL. 

refuted.  The  lie  of  their  adulation  to  Herod  changes 
to  truth  on  our  h'ps,  when — speaking  of  him  who 
says,  "  T  the  Lord  have  spoken,  and  I  will  do  it" — 
we  exclaim,  "  This  is  the  voice  of  a  God,  and  not  of 
a  man." 

The  words  of  my  text  fit  not  mortal  lips.  Of  that 
truth,  Jephthah's  calamity  and  Herod's  crime  afford 
memorable  illustrations.  In  the  full  tide  of  patriotism, 
in  the  fierce  excitement  of  the  fight,  with  a  warrior's 
proud  ambition  to  win  the  field,  Jephthah  made  his 
vow,  and  resolved  to  keep  it — to  do  what  he  spake. 
Ah  !  little  did  he  dream,  that  the  first  to  leave  his 
house,  the  victim  for  sacrifice,  should  be  the  daughter 
of  his  heart — his  only  child.  And  as  little  did  Herod 
foresee,  upon  what  a  bloody  path  of  remorse  and  crime 
the  rash  pledge  extorted  by  the  fiendish  hatred  of  a 
paramour  would  lead  him. 

Often,  we  have  not  the  power  to  do  what  we  say, 
and  to  perform  Avhat  we  promise.  "  If  the  Lord  will," 
should  qualify  all  the  future.  And  although  the  power 
were  ours,  some  vows,  some  resolutions,  are  more 
lionored  in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance.  The 
language  of  my  text,  therefore,  belongs  only  to  him 
whose  glance  penetrates  eternity;  to  whose  omnis- 
cience nothing  is  impervious,  to  whose  power  nothing 
is  impossible.  A\^eak,  short-sighted,  ignorant,  erring 
mortals,  such  words  in  our  mouths  were  impudent  and 
impotent  presumption  ;  and  we  have  no  more  right  to 
assume  the  imperial  tone  of  Divinity,  than  we  have 
ability  to  launch  his  thunderbolts,  or  wisdom  to  guido 
his  counsels. 

These  great  words  of  power  are  also  words  of  mercy. 
Connect  them  with  the  exceeding  precious  promises, 
the  exceeding  lofty  offers  of  the  Gospel,  with  such  a 


THE   SECURITY   OF   THE   BELIEVER.  379 

passage  as  this — "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Chi-ist, 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved;"  or  this,  "Come  unto  me 
all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give 
3'ourest;"  or  this,  "My  grace  shall  be  sufficient  for 
thee,  and  my  strength  made  perfect  in  your  weak- 
ness ;"  or  this,  "  With  my  dead  body  shall  they  arise." 
"  Awake  and  sing,  all  ye  that  dwell  in  the  dust.  For 
thy  dew  is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth  shall 
cast  out  the  dead" — and  these  words  are  as  full  of 
mercy  as  of  majesty.  God  in  them  speaks  with  ab- 
solute confidence.  And  how  is  his  confidence  calcu- 
lated to  create  and  sustain  in  our  hearts  the  firmest 
assurance  that  he  can  and  that  he  will  do  all  he  says  ? 
He  speaks  "  as  one  having  authority."  There  is  no 
obscurity  about  his  language,  or  hesitation  in  its  tone. 
He  speaks  as  one  whose  word  is  law,  whose  w^ill  is 
power,  whose  smile  is  life,  whose  frown  is  death.  He 
speaks  as  one  who  has  entire  confidence  in  his  own 
resources,  and  whose  word  is  as  efficient  now  as  on 
the  day  when  he  issued  the  creative  fiat,  and  said, 
"Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was  light." 

Were  you  ever  at  sea  in  a  storm,  when  the  ship 
reeled  to  and  fro  like  a  drunken  man,  and  struggling, 
as  for  life  in  the  arms  of  death,  now  rose  on  the  top 
of  the  billow,  now  plunged  into  the  trough  of  the  sea  ? 
Partially  infected  with  others'  terror,  did  you  ever 
leave  shrieking  women  and  pale  men  below,  to  seek 
the  deck,  and  look  your  danger  bravely  in  the  face? 
In  such  circumstances,  I  know  nothing  so  re-assuring 
as — when  we  have  staggered  across  the  slippery  plank- 
ing, and  are  holding  by  rail  or  bulwark — to  see  amid 
these  w^eltering  foam- wreaths,  that  fierce  commotion, 
the  hurricane  roar  of  the  wind  among  the  shrouds, 
and  the  loud  dash  of  the  billows  beneath — calm  con- 


880  -rHE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

fidence  seated  on  the  brow  of  that  weather-beaten  man 
who,  with  iron  strength,  leans  upon  the  wheel,  and 
steers  our  ship  through  the  roaring  billows.  Such-  - 
bnlj  much  higher — is  the  confidence  which  we  draw 
fiom  the  confidence  of  God,  as  expressed  in  the  words 
— "  I  have  spoken,  and  I  will  do  it." 

In  illustration  of  this,  take  the  night  of  the  storm 
in  Galilee.  The  disciples  gather  round  our  Lord,  and 
wake  him,  crying,  Master,  Master,  "  Carest  thou  not 
that  we  perish?"  Look  up,  and  see  these  mountain 
waves  1  Hark  to  the  roaring  of  the  storm  !  the  boat 
fills — we  sink.  Save,  Oh  save,  we  perish  !  Had  they 
known  him  fully,  would  they  not  have  drawn  courage 
from  his  very  slumbers  ?  With  a  boat-cloak  protect- 
ing bis  wasted  and  weary  form  from  the  flying  spray, 
they  would  have  let  him  sleep  on ;  and  bold  faith, 
arresting  the  arm  of  fear,  had  said,  "  Hush  !  wake  him 
not;  let  him  take  his  rest;  he  would  not,  could  not 
sleep,  were  disciples  in  danger." 

When  a  mother,  on  a  watch  by  a  cradle  where  life 
has  been  feebly  flickering,  falls  asleep,  we  are  sure  that 
the  crisis  is  over — the  worst  is  passed.  Before  sleep 
sealed  these  kind  and  anxious  eyes,  they  had  seen  the 
tide,  that  had  ebbed,  returning.  Let  the  storm  wreck 
a  hundred  boats,  and  carry  disaster,  widowhood,  or- 
phanage among  the  fishing  hamlets  upon  Galilee's 
shores,  to  my  eye  the  disciples  had  full  assurance  of 
safety  in  the  fact  that  Jesus  slept,  and  slept  as  soundly 
in  that  storm-tossed  boat  as  when  Mary  rocked  the 
cradle,  or  sung  him  over  on  her  gentle  bosom.  In 
that  sleeping  form  "  there  was  the  hiding  of  his 
power,"  and  the  confidence  of  high  and  worthy  faith. 
But  my  text  is  one  that  meets  the  weakest  faith  ;  for 
who  can  doubt  that  God  will  make  good  all  his  promises, 


THE   SECURITY   OF    THE   BELIEVER.  S31 

who  marks  the  firm,  unqualified,  determined,  supreme, 
sovereign  tone  of  the  words,  "  I  the  Lord  have  spoken, 
and  I  will  do  it."  Man  is  often  confident  when  he 
should  be  diflident ;  and  yet,  if  the  confidence  of  man 
inspires  us  with  hope,  and  speaks  peace  to  the  appre- 
hensions of  a  troubled  heart,  how  much  more  should 
the  confidence  of  God  ?  With  these  words  in  our  eye, 
we  can  look  on  the  starry  dome  of  heaven  and  this 
solid  earth,  and  believe  that  sooner  shall  that  arch  fall, 
and  bury  a  crushed  world  in  its  ruins,  than  that  one 
good  word  spoken  of  his  people  shall  fail  till  all  be 
fulfilled. 

I.  The  text  announces  a  most  important  truth. 

So  long  as  there  was  pulse  and  breath  in  Lazarus, 
his  sisters  often  left  their  brother's  couch,  and  went  to 
door  and  window  to  see  if  there  was  yet  any  sign  of 
Jesus.  Days  ago  a  messenger  had  been  dispatched 
with  the  tidings,  "He  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick;"  and 
they  felt  like  the  mother  of  Sisera,  when,  wearying  for 
her  son's  return,  she  looked  for  him  in  the  glare  of 
day,  and  listened  for  him  in  the  gloom  of  night,  cry- 
ing. Why  is  his  chariot  so  long  in  coming?  why  tarry 
the  wheels  of  his  chariots  ?  Death  at  length  quenches 
hope.  The  funeral  is  over  ;  and,  when  four  days  have 
elapsed,  a  lingering  Lord  is  seen  descending  the 
heights  of  Olivet  in  his  approach  to  Bethany.  One 
enters  the  house  of  mourning  and  whispers,  "  The 
Lord  is  come."  Martha  rises,  advances  to  meet  him 
and  pour  forth  her  regret  for  his  absence,  and  her 
confidence  in  his  power  in  this  bitter  cry,  "  Lord,  if 
thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died." 

When  we  look  at  our  text,  we  feel,  in  reference  to 
the  sad  event  of  Eden,  much  as  Martha  did  when  s-.:e 


882  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

turned  her  weeping  eyes  on  Jesus.  Would  his  pres 
ence  have  preserved  the  hfe  of  Lazarus?  No  less 
certainly  had  these  words  been  present  in  their  power 
to  Eve,  they  would  have  preserved  her  innocence,  and 
saved  the  world.  Not  Lazarus  only,  but  no  man  had 
died  ;  there  had  been  neither  sin,  nor  sorrow,  nor  griefs, 
nor  graves,  in  this  suffering  world,  had  Eve,  when  she 
stood  by  the  fatal  tree,  but  remembered,  believed,  felt 
this  sentence,  "I  have  spoken,  and  I  will  do  it." 
Then,  on  the  serpent  saying,  "  Thou  shalt  not  surely 
die,"  with  a  voice  as  prompt  and  peremptory  as  her 
Son's,  she  had  replied,  *'  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan, 
thou  savorest  not  of  the  things  that  be  of  God."  The 
honor  reserved  for  her  seed  had  been  her  own.  She 
had  placed  her  naked  foot  upon  the  serpent,  and,  stamp- 
ing down  a  heel  unbruised,  had  crushed  his  head. 
Oh,  the  world  had  been  saved,  had  she,  taking  up  her 
position  on  the  high  ground  of  my  text,  answered  the 
tempter  thus,  "The  Lord  hath  said,  In  the  day  thou 
eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die.  He  hath  spoken, 
and  He  will  do  it."  Entrenched  more  strongly  within 
these  lines  than  ever  army  that,  behind  batteries — 
bristling  with  cannon — beat  back  the  fierce  sortie,  she 
had  stood  alone ;  within  the  impregnable  barriers  of 
God's  word,  she  had  defied  the  powers  of  hell;  and, 
omnipotent  in  God,  she  had  received  the  battle  on  her 
single  shield.  Eden  had  still  been  ours,  and  our  fornily 
had  still  been  blessed  and  holy,  with  God  for  a  father 
and  Paradise  for  a  home. 

Some  years  ago,  when  autumn  floods  wrought  great 
devastation  in  our  country,  a  strong  man  was  swept 
away  into  the  swollen  river.  It  bore  him — as  he  and 
others  thought — by  good  fortune,  to  a  tree,  which 
stood  bravely  up.  amid  the  sea  of  waters.     He  caught 


THE   SECURITY   OF   I'HE   BELIEVER.  883 

it  and  climbed  it.  Seated  on  a  bongli  he  stretched 
out  his  arms  for  help  to  the  distant  banks.  Attempts 
were  made  to  rescue  him  before  nightfall,  but  all  in 
vain.  The  day  wore  on,  and  the  night  at  length  came 
down  ;  and  now  a  frantic  wife,  and  weeping  little  ones, 
and  some  kind  neighbors,  were  ?eft  nothing  to  do,  but 
to  listen  amid  the  pauses  of  the  tempest  for  his  long, 
shiill  whistle.  Ever  and  anon  that  came  across  the 
flood  to  cheer  them  up  ;  for  he  sounded  it  to  let  them 
know  that  he  was  still  alive,  and  that  the  tree  was 
3'Ct  breasting  the  roaring  stream.  About  midnight 
tliis  signal  ceased.  They  strained  their  ears,  and 
heard  nought  but  the  hoarse  roar  of  the  angry  river, 
mingled  with  the  shrieking  of  the  storm.  Morning 
at  length  arrived ;  the  man  was  gone — tree  gone — and 
where  it  stood  they  saw  but  the  whirling  waves  of  the 
red  roaring  flood.  At  this  moment,  one — considered 
little  else  than  a  fool — stepped  forward  to  say,  "  I  could 
have  saved  him."  Any  other  but  that  heart-broken 
group  would  have  laughed  him  to  scorn  ;  and  yet  he 
showed  them  how,  by  attaching  a  rope  to  a  float,  and 
sending  that  away  from  the  very  bank  where  the  lost 
man  had  been  carried  off,  he  could  have  saved  him. 
since  the  current  that  bore, the  man  to  the  tree  would 
have  been  certain  to  carry  to  him  this  means  of  com- 
munication with  the  shore.  The  plan  was  perfect ; 
no  doubt  of  it.  But  it  came  too  late;  and  they  had 
to  leave  the  scene  with  their  grief  exasperated  and 
embittered  by  the  thought,  that  had  they  possessed 
but  the  wisdom  of  this  fool,  their  desolate  home  had 
received  a  joyous  family,  to  give  God  thanks  for  the 
"dead  that  was  alive  again,  and  the  lost  that  was 
found." 

I  have  told  you,  that  had  my  text  been  present  to 


384  THE   GOSPEL  IN   EZEKIEL. 

-he  mind,  and  felt  in  its  power  by  the  heart  of  Eve, 
^-e  had  not  beeu  lost.  But  when  the  deed  has  been 
lone,  and  it  is  now  too  late,  my  object  is  not  to  show 
how  man  might  have  been  saved.  There  is  little  kind- 
ness in  telling  me  of  a  medicine  that  would  have  cured 
my  dead.  To  tell  me  that  had  this  or  that  been  done, 
the  grave  had  not  held  their  loved  dust  this  day,  is  not 
to  close  but  open  my  wound — to  drop  not  balm,  but 
burning  acid  upon  a  raw  and  bleeding  sore.  Glory  to 
the  grace  of  God,  I  tell  not  that  my  text,  if  believed 
in,  would  have  saved  man,  but,  if  believed  in,  shall 
still  save  him. 

It  would  have  kept  us  out  of  the  grave.  It  can 
raise  us  out  of  it.  It  is  like  Jesus  Christ.  Had  he 
been  present,  Lazarus  had  not  died,  but  he  who  could 
have  saved  Lazarus  from  the  tomb,  when  it  has  closed 
upon  his  friend,  calls  him  out  of  it.  The  power  that 
would  have  proved  the  sick  man's  remedy,  stands  at 
the  mouth  of  that  yawning  sepulcher  the  dead  man\s 
resurrection.  Let  my  text  lay  hold  of  the  redemption 
of  Christ,  and  it  has  all,  and  more  than  all  the  power 
it  ever  had — the  cross,  the  crown,  peace,  pardon,  grace 
in  life,  hope  in  death,  heaven  throughout  all  eternity — ■ 
these  are  all  wrapped  up  in  a  deep,  solemn,  heartfelt, 
divine  conviction  of  this  truth.  "  I  the  Lord  have 
spoken,  and  I  will  do  it." 

Take,  on  the  one  hand,  these  precious  invitations — 
''IIo,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters; 
come  ye,  buy  and  eat,  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk 
without  money  and  without  price;"  and  this,  "Look 
unto  me,  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth;" 
and  this,  ''  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from 
all  sin  ;"  and  this,  "  I  will  take  out  of  you  the  hard  and 
Btony  heart;"  and  this,  "Behold,  0  my  people,  I  will 


THE   SECURITY   OF   THE   BELIEVER.  885 

cpen  your  graves,  and  I  will  cause  you  to  come  up 
out  of  your  graves,  and  ye  shall  live ;"  and  take,  on 
the  other  hand,  these : — "  They  that  sow  to  the  flesh, 
shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption ;"  and  this,  "  The 
soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die ;"  and  this,  '^  The  wicked 
nhall  be  cast  into  hell."  Now,  would  God  by  his  Spirit 
help  us  to  lodge  in  men's  hearts  an  earnest,  cordial 
belief  of  these  truths  as  they  appear  in  the  light  of  the 
text,  man  would  not — man  could  not  be  lost.  At  once 
warned  and  won  by  it,  the  Gospel  would  be  glad  news. 
Men  with  all  their  hearts  would  embrace  offered  mercy. 
Churches  would  become  sanctuaries,  and  the  place  of 
worship  would  be  a  gate  to  heaven.  And  ministers — 
disheartened  and  despondent — would  not  have  to  return 
so  often  to  their  Master,  saying,  "Lord,  they  are  per- 
ishing ;  yet  they  will  not  come  to  thee  that  they  may 
have  life.  I  have  brought  back  thine  offer.  They 
will  not  take  it.  No  man  hath  believed  my  report, 
and  to  none  has  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been  revealed." 

IL  The  comforts  this  truth  imparts  to  a  true  Christian. 

Through  his  confidence  in  this  truth^  the  believer  com- 
mits all  his  earthly  cares  to  God. 

I  do  not  say  that  we  are  not  to  embrace  any  oppor- 
tunity of  improving  our  circumstances,  and  acquiring 
lawful  objects  of  pursuit.  Far  from  it.  The  Gospel 
inculcates  diligence,  even  in  our  worldly  calling.  ''Go 
to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  consider  her  ways,  and  be 
wise."  Nor  shall  our  lawful  calling,  whatever  it  be, 
interfere  with  the  best  interests  of  our  souls.  Religion 
is  none  the  worse,  but  all  the  better  for  work ;  and  a 
man's  work  is  all  the  better  for  his  religion.  The 
morning  prayer  does  for  a  good  man's  heart  what  the 
morning  meal  does  for  his  body.     It  braces  him  up 

17 


386  THE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

for  the  day  and  ita  duties.  He  has  least  need  of  a 
master^s  watchful  eye,  who  feels  that  the  eye  of  God 
is  ever  upon  him.  You  may  safely  trust  most  to  those 
who  make  conscience  of  the  meanest  work ;  who,  in 
kindling  a  fire  or  sweeping  a  floor,  have  an  eye  uplift- 
ed to  the  glory  of  God  ;  who  ennoble  life's  humblest 
employment  by  aiming  at  a  noble  end ;  and  who  ad- 
dress themselves  to  their  business  in  the  high  and  holy 
belief,  that  when  duty — however  humble  it  may  be — 
is  well  done,  God  is  glorified;  just  as  he  is  glorified  as 
well  by  a  lowly  daisy,  as  by  the  garden's  gaudiest  and 
proudest  flowers. 

But  while  this  truth  gives  no  encouragement  to 
indolence — to  a  languid  and  idle  waiting  upon  prov- 
idence— and  no  encouragement  to  cast  our  work 
itself  on  God,  it  teaches  his  people  to  cast  the  cares  of 
the  work  upon  him.  Are  not  these  among  the  words 
that  he  hath  spoken,  and  will  do,  "  The  steps  of  a 
good  man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord."  "  Cast  thy  burden 
on  the  Lord,  he  shall  sustain  thee."  "The  lot  is  cast 
into  the  lap ;  but  the  whole  disposing  thereof  is  of  the 
Lord?"  Child  of  God  I  put  in,  then,  a  fearless  hand 
into  this  lottery,  and  draw.  With  faith  in  God's 
superintending  providence  and  his  unfailing  word. 
Child  of  God !  shield  thy  heart  from  cares  that  are 
the  torture  of  others,  and  from  temptations  that  are 
often  their  ruin?  Between  a  man,  torn  with  anxieties, 
tossed  with  fears,  fretting  with  cares,  and  the  good 
man,  who  calmly  trusts  in  the  Lord,  Oh !  there  is  as 
great  a  difference  as  between  a  brawling,  roaring, 
mountain  brook,  that  with  mad  haste  leaps  from  crag 
to  crag,  and  is  ground  into  boiling  foam,  and  the  pla- 
cid river,  which,  with  beauty  on  its  banks  and  heaven 
in  its  bosom,  spreads  blessings  wherever  it  flows,  and 


THE   SECURITY   OF   THE   BELIEVER.  387 

pursues  the  noiseless  tenor  of  its  way  back  to  the  great 
ocean,  from  which  its  waters  came.  "  It  is  better  to 
trust  in  the  Lord  than  to  put  confidence  in  man.  It  is 
better  to  trust  in  tlie  Lord  than  to  put  confidence  in 
princes."  "  They  that  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as 
Mount  Zion, which  cannot  be  removed." 

Through  Ids  confidence  in  the  truth  of  my  text,  the  be- 
liever is  sustained  amid  the  trials  of  life. 

God  casts  his  people  into  trial  for  the  very  same 
reason  that  the  refiner  commits  his  silver  to  the  fur- 
nace. He  tries  them  to  purify  them.  He  does  not 
afflict  willingl}^  Be  assured  that  he  has  no  more 
pleasure  in  their  sufferings  than  a  kind  surgeon  in  his 
patient's  groans,  or  a  parent  in  his  children's  tears. 

Trials  are  ill  to  bear.  To  be  reduced  from  affluence 
to  poverty — to  become  dependent  on  cold  charity — to 
lie  on  a  bed  of  languor — to  pass  nights  of  sleepless 
pain — to  be  exposed  to  evil  tongues — to  be  hissed  on 
the  stage  where  we  were  once  applauded — to  sit  amid 
the  ruins  of  fortune — to  lay  loved  ones  in  a  lonesome 
grave — such  things  are  not  "joyous,  but  grievous." 
Winter,  no  doubt,  is  not  the  pleasant  season  that  sum- 
mer brings,  with  her  songs  and  flowers,  and  long, 
bright,  sunny  days.  Bitter  medicines,  no  doubt,  are 
not  savory  meat.  Yet  he  who  believes  that  all  things 
shall  work  together  for  good,  will  be  ready  to  thank 
God  for  physic  as  well  as  for  food ;  and  for  the  winter 
frost  that  kills  the  weeds,  and  breaks  up  the  soil,  as 
for  the  dewy  nights  and  sunny  days  that  ripen  the 
fields  of  corn.  May  God  give  us  such  a  faith  !  With 
nature  weak  and  grace  imperfect,  when  there  is  no 
lifting  of  the  cloud,  and  trials  are  severe  and  long-pro- 
tracted I  ah  !  though  it  may  be  easy  for  an  on-looker 
to  preach  patience,  it  is  not  easy  ^or  a  sufferer  to  prac- 


388  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

tice  it.  In  such  circumstances,  how  prone  we  are  to 
take  the  case  out  of  God's  hands,  and,  getting  discon- 
tented with  his  discipline,  how  ready  we  are  to  cry, 
"How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long?"  "  If  it  be  possible, 
let  this  cup  pass  from  me ;"  or,  take  away  this,  and 
give  me  any  one  else  to  drink.  Yet  let  me  have  a  firm 
fiiith  in  God's  truth  and  love,  let  me  be  confident  that 
he  will  do  what  he  has  said,  and  perform  all  that  he 
has  promised,  and  I  shall  discover  mercy's  bow  bent 
on  fortune's  blackest  cloud,  and,  under  most  trying 
providences,  shall  enjoy  in  my  heart,  and  exhibit  to 
others  in  my  temper,  the  blessed  difference  between  a 
sufferer  that  mourns,  and  a  spirit  that  murmurs. 

Through  his  cor)fidei.i€e  in  the  truth  of  my  text^  the  he- 
liever  cheerfully  hopes,  and  patiently  ivaits  for  heaven. 

Home !  to  be  home  is  the  wish  of  the  seaman  on 
stormy  seas  and  lonely  watch.  Home  is  the  wish  of 
the  soldier,  and  tender  visions  mingle  with  the 
troubled  dreams  of  trench  and  tented  field.  Where 
the  palm-tree  waves  its  graceful  plumes,  and  birds  of 
jeweled  luster  flash  and  flicker  among  gorgeous  flow 
ers,  the  exile  sits  staring  upon  vacancy  ;  a  far  away 
home  lies  on  his  heart ;  and  borne  on  the  wings  of 
fancy  over  intervening  seas  and  lands,  he  has  swept 
away  home,  and  hears  the  lark  singing  above  his  fa* 
ther's  fields,  and  sees  his  fair-haired  boy  brother,  with 
light  foot  and  childhood's  glee,  chasing  the  butterfly 
by  his  native  stream.  And  in  his  best  hours,  home, 
liis  own  sinless  home — a  home  with  his  Father  above 
that  starry  sky — will  be  the  wish  of  every  Christian 
man.  He  looks  around  him — the  world  is  full  of  suf-. 
fering  ;  he  is  distressed  by  its  sorrows,  and  vexed  with 
its  sins.  He  looks  within  him — he  finds  much  in  his 
own  corruptions  to  grieve  for.     In  the  language  of  a 


THE   SECURITY   OF   THE   BELIEVER.  889 

heart  repelled,  grieved,  vexed,  he  often  turns  his  eye 
upwards,  saying,  "  I  would  not  live  here  alway." 
No.  'Not  for  all  the  gold  of  the  world's  mines— not 
for  all  the  pearls  of  her  seas — not  for  all  the  pleasure3 
of  her  flashing,  frothy  cup — not  for  all  the  crowns  of 
her  kingdoms — would  I  live  here  alway.  Li  Ice  a  bird 
about  to  migrate  to  those  sunny  lands  where  no  win- 
ter sheds  her  snows,  or  strips  the  grove,  or  binds  the 
dancing  streams,  he  will  often  in  spirit  be  pruning  his 
wing  for  the  hour  of  his  flight  to  glor}^ 

The  holier  the  child  of  God  becomes,  the  more  he 
pants  after  the  perfect  image  and  blissful  presence  of 
Jesus ;  and  dark  although  the  passage,  and  deep  al- 
though the  river  may  be,  the  more  holy  he  is,  the 
more  ready  will  he  be  to  say,  "  It  is  better  to  depart, 
and  be  with  Jesus."  "  Tell  me,"  said  a  saintly  minis- 
ter of  the  Church  of  England,  whose  star  but  lately 
set  on  this  world,  to  rise  and  shine  in  better  skies — 
"  tell  me,"  he  said  to  his  physician,  "  the  true  state  of 
my  case ;  conceal  nothing ;"  adding,  as  his  eye  kin- 
dled, and  his  face  beamed  at  the  very  thought,  "  if  you 
have  to  tell  me  that  my  dissolution  is  near,  you  could 
not  tell  me  better  or  happier  news." 

Paul  said,  "  I  am  in  a  strait  betwixt  two,  having  a 
desire  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far 
better :  nevertheless,  to  abide  in  the  flesh  is  more 
needful  for  you."  He  judged  it  best  for  himself  to  go, 
out  for  others  he  judged  it  best  to  stay.  And  there 
ire  few  nobler  sights  than  to  sec  that  man,  with  his 
foot  on  the  door-step  of  heaven,  return  to  throw  him- 
2elf  into  the  very  thick  of  battle,  and  spend  and  be 
spent  in  his  Master's  work.  The  crown  of  martyrdom 
oftCii  7/ithin  his  reach,  he  drew  back  a  hand  that  was 
ea^vr  lo  grasp  it.    lie  took  as  much  care  of  life  as  the 


890  TUE   GOSPEL   IN    EZEKIEL. 

coward  guilt  that  is  afraid  to  die.  He  was  not  ii:\pa 
tient  of  the  hardships,  w^ounds,  and  watchings  of  the 
warfare,  so  long  as  he  could  serve  the  cause  of  Jesus. 
It  was  sin,  not  suffering  that  he  felt  intolerable ;  and 
which  wrung  from  him  the  bitter  cry,  "  O,  wretched 
man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  body 
of  death?"  His  a  Saviour's  spirit,  he  chose  rather 
that  Christ  should  be  glorified  through  his  labors  on 
earth,  than  that  he  himself  should  be  glorified  with 
Christ  in  heaven.  And  so  long  as  he  had  a  tongue  to 
speak  for  Jesus,  and  an  arm  to  hold  high  above  the 
battle's  tumult  the  banner  of  the  faith,  he  was  willing 
to  work  on — not  impatient  for  death  and  his  discharge. 
His  was  a  higher  and  more  heroic  wish  than  to  get  to 
heaven.  He  wished  to  make  a  heaven  of  earth  ;  and, 
persuaded  that  nothing  could  separate  him  from  the 
love  of  God,  or,  finally,  from  heaven,  believing  that 
all  which  God  had  said  of  him  he  would  do  for  him, 
and  knowing  that,  though  the  vision  tarried,  it  would 
come,  he  possessed  his  soul  in  patience  and  peace — ■ 
waiting  for  the  Lord. 

It  is  a  cowardly  thing  for  a  soldier  to  seek  his  dis- 
charge, so  long  as  his  country's  banner  flies  in  the 
battle-field.  The  Christian  should  be  a  hero,  not  a 
coward  ;  and  with  such  faith  as  all  may  get,  and 
many  have  enjoyed,  God's  people,  while  they  look  to 
heaven,  will  with  patience  wait  for  it.  On  his  way 
home,  the  saint  will  prove  himself  a  good  Samaritan ; 
ready  to  stop  even  on  a  heavenward  journey,  that  ho 
^y  raise  the  fallen,  bind  up  the  wounds  of  humanity, 
And  do  all  the  work  that  meets  him  upon  the  road. 
Nor  shall  this  go  unrewarded.  "The  sleep  of  a  labor- 
ing man  is  sweet."  And,  Oh !  heaven  shall  be 
sweetest  to  him  who  has  wrought  through  the  longest 


THE   SECUKITY   OF  THE   BELIEVER.  391 

day,  and  toiled  the  hardest  at  his  work.  Now  and 
then  he  will  be  lifting  up  a  weary  head  to  see  how 
the  hours  wear  by — if  there  be  yet  any  sign  of  his 
Master  coming.  But  upborne  under  the  heat  and 
burden  of  the  day  by  the  confidence  that  "  he  who 
shall  come  will  come,  and  will  not  tarry,"  he  works 
patiently,  and  he  suifers  patiently.  The  most  impor- 
tunate  and  urgent  prayer  he  ventures  on,  that  of  one, 
who,  trembling  lest  patience  should  fail  and  religion 
suffer  dishonor,  cried,  when  her  pain  deepened  into 
agony,  and  the  agony  became  excruciating—"  Come, 
Oh  come.  Lord  Jesus  I  come  quickly." 

II.  Both  nature  and  providence  illustrate  the  truth 
of  my  text. 

Nature  assures  us,  (hat  what  God  hath  said,  he  will  do. 

It  can  never  be  wrong  to  do  what  Jesus  did.  That 
must  be  sound  reasoning,  in  the  use  of  which  he  sets 
us  an  example.  I  see  him  bring  a  flower  to  the  pulpit, 
and  choose  a  lily  for  his  text.  He  bids  the  people 
listen  to  that  sweet  preacher — the  little  bird — that, 
seated  on  the  bending  spray,  with  providence  for  its 
song  and  sermon,  neither  sows  nor  reaps;  without 
harvests,  suffers  no  wants ;  and  without  a  barn,  feels 
no  fears.  Thus  he  taught  his  hearers  to  cast  their  cares 
on  God,  and  thus  have  I  the  highest  authority  for 
summoning  Nature  here  to  bear  witness  to  the  char- 
acter of  God.  ^Ye  ask  her  then  to  say,  whether  her 
God,  who  is  our  God,  is  true  to  his  word  ?  whether 
he  ever  says,  and  fails  to  do?  By  the  voices  of 
the  sun,  the  stars,  the  hills,  the  valleys,  the  streams, 
the  cataracts,  the  rolling  thunders,  and  the  roaring 
sea,  she  returns  a  majestic  answer — it  is  an  echo  of 
the  text.     Spring  comes  with  infant  nature  waking  in 


892  THE   GOSPEL   IN   EZEKIEL. 

her  arms ;  Summer  comes  bedecked  with  a  robe  of 
flowers;  Autumn  comes  with  her  swarthy  brow 
crowned  with  vines,  and  on  her  back  the  sheaves  of 
corn ;  old  Winter  comes  with  his  shivering  limbs,  and 
frozen  locks,  and  hoary  head ;  and  these  four  wit- 
nesses— each  laying  one  hand  on  the  broad  table  of 
nature,  and,  lifting  the  other  to  heaven — swear  by 
him  that  liveth  for  ever  and  ever,  that  all  which  God 
hath  said,  God  shall  do. 

No  man  looks  for  sunrise  in  the  west.  No  soldier 
stands  beneath  the  falling  shell,  expecting  to  see  it 
arrested  in  its  descent,  and  hanging  like  a  star  in 
empty  space.  We  build  our  houses  in  confidence 
that  the  edifice  will  gravitate  to  the  center ;  nor  ever 
doubt,  when  we  set  our  mill-wheel  in  the  running 
stream,  that  as  sure  as  man  is  on  his  way  to  the  grave, 
the  waters  shall  ever  take  their  way  to  the  sea.  We 
consult  the  Nautical  Almanac,  and,  finding  that  it 
shall  be  high  water  to-morrow  at  such  an  hour,  we 
make  our  arrangements  for  being  on  board  then,  cer- 
tain that  we  shall  find  our  ship  afloat,  and  the  seamen 
shaking  out  their  sails  to  go  away  on  the  bosom  of 
the  floating  tide.  If  fire  burned  the  one  day,  and 
water  the  next ;  if  wood  became  at  one  time  as  heavy 
as  iron,  and  iron  at  another  as  buoyant  as  wood ;  if 
here  the  rivers  hasted  to  the  embraces  of  the  sea,  and 
there,  as  in  fear,  retreated  from  them,  what  a  scene  of 
confusion  this  world  would  become!  In  truth,  its 
whole  business  rests  on  faith — on  our  belief,  that  God 
will  carry  into  unfailing  effect  every  law  which  his 
finger  has  written  in  the  books  of  nature  and  of  prov- 
idence. This  is  the  pillow  on  which  a  sleeping 
v.'orld  rests  its  weary  head  ;  this  is  the  pivot  on  which 
its  business  turns.     Now  let  us  remember,  that  there 


THE   SECURITY    OF  THE   BELIEVER.  393 

are  not  two  Gods ;  a  consistent  Divinity  who  presides 
over  nature,  and  a  capricious  Divinity  who  presides 
in  the  kingdom  of  grace.  "  Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord 
thy  God  is  one  Lord."  In  regard,  therefore,  to  all 
the  precious  promises  and  solemn  warnings  of  tho 
Bible,  Nature  lifts  up  her  voice,  and  cries — "  0  Earth, 
Earth,  Earth,  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord." 

Providence  assures  ns  that  what  God  hath  said,  h 
will  do. 

Some  time  ago  the  heavens  were  pouring  down  tor- 
rents of  rain,  the  streams  had  risen  into  rivers,  the 
rivers  were  swollen  into  seas,  and,  our  fields  changed 
into  lakes,  boats  were  plying  were  ploughs  were  wont 
to  go.  It  looked  like  the  beginning  of  a  second 
deluge ;  and  to  some  who  had  fled  from  their  beds  for 
safety  to  cottage  roofs,  the  howling  of  the  wind,  the 
incessant  pouring  of  the  rain,  the  waters  steadily  rising 
on  the  walls,  may  have  recalled  the  memory  of  that 
day  when  the  ark  began  to  float,  and  men  hung 
round  it  knocking  on  a  door  which  God  had  shut  in 
judgment  against  a  wicked  world.  Yet,  I  will  ven- 
ture to  say,  that  the  dread  of  a  second  deluge  aggra- 
vated no  man's  sufferings,  nor  changed  a  sinner's 
curses  into  a  penitent's  prayers.  "Why  not?  Ah! 
men  say  the  sea  has  never  left  her  bounds.  Apart 
altogether  from  the  records  of  revelation,  geology  tella 
us  that  she  has,  and  that  round  the  rock  where  the  eagle 
now  has  her  nest,  monsters  of  the  deep  have  swam, 
and  that  the  highest  peaks  of  earth's  highest  moun- 
tains were  once  the  islands  of  an  ancient  sea.  Yes  I 
but  then,  it  is  said,  there  is  the  bow  in  the  cloud,  and 
the  promise  in  the  Bible,  ''  Neither  shall  all  flesh  be 
cut  off  any  more  by  the  waters  of  a  flood;  neither 


894  THE   GOSPEL  IK  EZEKIEL. 

shall  there  any  more  be  a  flood  to  destroy  the  earth. 
This  is  the  token  of  my  covenant  that  I  will  make 
between  me  and  you,  and  every  living  creature  that 
is  with  you  for  perpetual  generations.  I  do  set  my 
bow  in  the  cloud,  and  it  shall  be  for  a  token  of  a  cov- 
enant between  me  and  the  earth."  That  indeed  is  a 
security  against  a  second  flood.  Now,  shall  God  keep 
his  word  to  this  doomed,  sinful,  polluted  world — 
shall  he  keep  the  covenant  of  the  bow,  and  not  keep 
the  covenant  of  the  cross  ?  The  providences  of  four 
thousand  years  assure  us  that  be  who  is  true  to  his 
covenant  with  Noah,  shall  not  be  less  true  to  the 
blood-sealed  covenant  made  with  his  beloved  Son. 

The  voice  of  every  storm  that,  like  an  angry  child, 
weeps  and  cries  itself  asleep — the  voice  of  every  shower 
that  has  been  followed  by  sunshine — the  hoarse  voice 
of  ocean  breaking  in  impotent  rage  against  its  ancient 
bounds — the  voice  of  the  seasons  as  they  have  marched 
to  the  music  of  the  spheres  in  unbroken  succession 
over  the  earth — the  scream  of  the  satyr  in  Babylon's 
empty  halls — the  song  of  the  fisherman,  who  spreads 
his  net  on  the  rocks,  and  shoots  it  through  the  waters 
where  Tyre  once  sat  in  the  pride  of  an  ocean  queen — 
the  fierce  shout  of  the  Bedouin  as  he  careers  in  free- 
dom over  his  desert  sands — the  wail  and  weeping  of 
the  wandering  Jew  over  the  ruins  of  Zion — in  all  these 
I  hear  the  echo  of  this  voice  of  God,  *'  I  the  Lord 
fiave  spoken,  and  I  will  do  it."  These  words  are 
vvrilten  on  every  Hebrew  forehead.  The  Jew  bar- 
tering his  beads  with  naked  savages— bearding  the 
Turk  in  the  capital  of  Mohammedan  power — braving  in. 
his  furs  the  rigor  of  Kussian  winters — over-reaching  in 
China  the  inhabitants  of  the  Celestial  Empire — in 
Golconda  buying  diamonds — in  our  metropolis  of  the 


THE   SECURITY   OF  TUE   BELIEVER.  895 

commercial  world  standing  highest  among  her  mer- 
chant princes — the  Hebrew  every  where,  and  yet  every 
where  without  a  country ;  with  a  religion,  but  with- 
out a  temple ;  with  wealth,  but  without  honor ;  with 
ancient  pedigree,  but  without  ancestral  possessions; 
with  no  land  to  fight  for,  nor  altars  to  defend,  nor 
patrimonial  fields  to  cultivate ;  with  children,  and  yet 
no  child  sitting  under  the  trees  that  his  grandsire 
planted ;  but  all  floating  about  over  the  world  like 
scattered  fragments  of  a  wreck  upon  the  bosom  of  the 
ocean — he  is  a  living  evidence,  that,  what  the  Lord 
hath  spoken,  the  Lord  will  do. 

True  to  his  threatenings,  Almighty  God  will  be  true 
to  all  his  promises;  and  to  both  we  can  apply  the 
words  of  Balaam — "  Kise  up,  Balak,  and  hear ;  hearken 
unto  me,  thou  son  of  Zippor :  God  is  not  a  man  that  he 
should  lie,  nor  the  son  of  man  that  he  should  repent. 
Hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not  do  it?  hath  he  spoken, 
and  shall  he  not  make  it  good  ?" 


I  HE  Bin). 


Date  Due 

0  23  ^ 

N  1  7  ''3^ 

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w  1  7  '4n 

:^imm><mf<f«^'ls^m 

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